The Grant Series: That's What Love is For
by kayura sanada
Summary: Last in the Trilogy. Time is running out for Hisoka. With Muraki's curse still in place and his final plans taking form, will Tsuzuki and Hisoka defeat Muraki once and for all, or will Hisoka disappear forever? TsuzukixHisoka
1. Beauty Is A Fading Flower

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

* * *

That's What Love Is For

* * *

_"That's what love is for,_

_To help us through it;_

_That's what love is for,_

_Nothing else can do it–_

_Melt our defenses,_

_Bring us back to our senses,_

_Give us strength to try once more–_

_Baby, that's what love is for."_

–That's What Love Is For,

Amy Grant

* * *

"Tsuzuki, I told you before: you are absolutely _forbidden_ from cooking for me. Got it?"

"Aw, but 'Sookaaaa," Tsuzuki whined.

Hisoka eyed the frilly apron like one might a rabid hyena, even as he lie propped on pillows in his bed. Tsuzuki refused to let him move from the position when he was around. "No. Absolutely not."

"Hisoka, I wanna help!"

Hisoka just sighed. It had been like this ever since he'd been released from the medical ward and allowed back in his apartment. His partner had been hounding after him ever since, seemingly glued to his shadow, as if leaving Hisoka alone would result in the boy's death. Or another abduction.

He'd at least gotten Tsuzuki to leave him alone at night by claiming the pills given to him by the doctor helped him sleep.

Lies. He was getting tired of them.

But if Tsuzuki knew the truth, he wouldn't get a minute of rest.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki tried again, "I can cook a couple of things; let me help!"

"Tsuzuki, you can cook plenty of things – all of them inedible. Besides, I have plenty of soup, and that's the perfect get-well-soon food. And _I_ can cook."

"But you shouldn't!" Tsuzuki disparaged. "You're recovering."

"Oi, oi," Hisoka muttered. "But how could I possibly get any rest with you here, anyway?"

"Wah, that's so mean!"

Why was Tsuzuki holding a ladle, anyway? Just what the hell had the man planned on cooking?! "And get out of that apron. It looks ridiculous on you."

"But this is perfect for the kitchen, don't you think?" And, horror of horrors, Tsuzuki twirled in it like a girl might in her prom dress.

Hisoka couldn't help it. He dropped his face into his hand. "Anyway, Tsuzuki," he mumbled through his palm before letting it slip back down, "how's the clean-up going of that building Muraki'd housed me in? Have they found traces of Serendipity and the others?"

Because of what Muraki had done to them, the batch of girls the man had killed had had their souls completely destroyed, leaving only a small fragment of their emotions. He remembered Serendipity's form, nothing more than a silvery blob, and felt pain clench his chest tight. Despite her abandonment, he'd never wanted anything like that to happen to her – or to anyone.

"Ah, no." Tsuzuki suddenly had a hard time looking him in the eye. Hisoka didn't even need his empathy to know that Tsuzuki couldn't remember that experience without a freaking avalanche of guilt burying him. "They haven't found them. Honestly, Hisoka... they don't think they ever will. They can't, you know? To those without your ability, there's nothing there."

He sighed. "I should go out there," he began, not for the first time, but Tsuzuki cut him off with another vehement _no_.

"Absolutely not, Hisoka! You're still recovering! And besides – besides, even if you hadn't gotten hurt in that last mission, you're in no shape to do much of anything, especially not with that ability of yours!"

"I'm fine!" he shouted, a completely useless and blatant lie that, if Tsuzuki weren't such a nice person, would be mocked unrepentantly. As it was, Tsuzuki brushed it off like he hadn't even said it. Apparently he'd used it one too many times. "And it's not like I'm not dealing with it..." he said nervously. Shit. They'd strayed onto the topic.

It was of absolutely no surprise to him when Tsuzuki pounced. "Hisoka, when are you going to tell me about those burn marks I saw?"

He just sighed again. He'd been careless, letting Tsuzuki see that he got injured by his dreams these days. They'd burned him again the night he'd returned from the hospital, and just last night, his left wrist had been broken in the dream-Tsuzuki's grip. Thank goodness he was a Shinigami, and so had the ability to heal such injuries, or else he'd be absolutely screwed. But the healing was taking its toll; he was always weak, always tired, and more and more, it seemed to take longer for his body to heal. He knew very well that eventually he wouldn't be able to keep up with his body's need to heal. And when that time came, he would literally exhaust himself into nonexistence.

"Hisoka, you know I need to know this. I need to know how a dream could... could injure you like that. I've tried to be patient and wait you out, but..."

Yeah. But he had absolutely no intention of saying, so unless Tsuzuki just burst right into it, it would probably never get resolved.

"Tsuzuki," he said finally, and he propped himself up further in his bed and put down the unread book he'd been fiddling with off and on. Tsuzuki had him leaning back on about three pillows, one even lent to him by Tsuzuki from the man's own bed – which smelled very, very nice, by the way – and curled up in blankets. If he weren't so damn tired, he'd be pissed about the situation. "It's not really something I want to talk about."

"We're partners, Hisoka. We're supposed to look out for each other."

_You already look out for me too much._ "It's annoying," he said finally, surprising his partner. Tsuzuki, knowing he had finally gotten Hisoka to start, sat on the edge of the bed – stupid-ass apron and all. Hisoka glared at it. "It's annoying to constantly need to be protected." And to counteract the blush staining his cheeks, he snapped, "will you lose the damn apron?"

But Tsuzuki just smiled sadly at him and took it off. Hisoka could Feel Tsuzuki's emotions under strict control, as if the man was trying to not interfere with Hisoka's upcoming monologue in any way. Hisoka would never tell Tsuzuki, but whenever he did that... it just made Hisoka even more nervous, even more upset. He wanted to know how Tsuzuki felt about something. If he did, he would know more about what was acceptable to him and what was not... though it was humiliating to know that Tsuzuki's opinion affected him so much.

"So... so..." Hey, exactly where should he begin? At the scene that had caused the nightmares, or at the description of the nightmares itself, or just start listing dates? "So I hear Muraki's voice in these dreams," he blurted randomly, "but they aren't memories, they're... he's actually speaking to me. In the dreams. Literally. Like I'm having a conversation with him during the dream."

Despite himself, it seemed Tsuzuki let a bit of worry leak through that dam he'd put up. "But how is that possible?"

"I don't know," Hisoka said harshly. "But I think it's why he found our hotel room during the last mission. I'm not sure, but I think he can see me. Or a least that's how it feels." He definitely should have said something about this sooner.

It posed an interesting distraction from the nightmares. Tsuzuki actually got up from the bed and started pacing. It was unbelievable to watch – Tsuzuki never freaking paced. "What does he say?" Tsuzuki asked finally.

"Usually he's just mocking me," Hisoka told him, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Making fun of my... my inability to stop the events from happening."

"Events," Tsuzuki echoed, looking at Hisoka again and stopping his pacing. Shit. Back to the dream.

"Uh, that you always die." Hisoka's eyes fell down to the bed. He turned his gaze to the book he'd been pretending to read – why in hell had he picked _Othello_?

"Hisoka-"

"I know it never really happened, okay?!" he snapped, glaring down at his blankets. "I know you never actually died or anything – I'm not stupid! But..." And he unconsciously clutched his chest, feeling the phantom shadow of loss inside of him. "But I still Feel you fade away, no matter what I try to do – and I always get the chance to try something new, like I'm in control of myself but not the situation. I can't _help_ it – every night, I _feel_ you die."

"Hisoka."

He snapped his head up at the Feel of Tsuzuki's emotions; the dam just freaking broke, and Hisoka could Feel a myriad of emotions – sorrow, regret, hurt. Even for Hisoka, who was used to Feeling such things, they were so undeniably strong... "Tsuzuki, don't – this is why I didn't want to tell you – I _knew_ you would react this way-"

"Hisoka, please tell me how to help you?" He made it a question as he returned to the bed, simply dropping the ladle to the floor. But instead of sitting on the bed, he knelt beside it and simply gazed into Hisoka's eyes from below, pleading with him.

Unfair.

Hisoka opened his mouth to state he was fine, but he stopped. They both knew it was a lie, and worse, it was a lie that could lead to his death – his nonexistence. He _had_ to get help, and the only person he trusted to such an extent was Tsuzuki. He didn't have a choice.

"I..." _I don't know how to do this – how could I possibly ask for help when I've constantly yelled at him to leave me alone?_

It would be cruel, wouldn't it, to lean on him so much, over and over again? It would be an even more unbalanced relationship, and he'd never get the chance to live on-par with Tsuzuki as his partner. He was just Tsuzuki's side-kick, his tag-a-long. He couldn't let that continue.

But what... what could he do?

"Please, Hisoka." Tsuzuki's hands moved to rest on Hisoka's legs, clenched. "Tell me what to do?"

"I..." he tried again, and floundered. He didn't know; how could he? He didn't understand kindness yet. He was trying... he'd thought he'd learned – to protect, to care for, to nurture sometimes, like he had when Tsuzuki had lamented his lack of human genes. Hisoka felt his heart lurch – yes, he remembered that time, when Tsuzuki had collapsed into his arms. Was that... what he needed? A... warm embrace?

Like hell he'd ask for that.

"I'm just worried... about Muraki," he said, straying from the personal matters that he just plain couldn't get himself to talk about. How the hell did one go about asking for a... a hug? It sounded so childish. So pathetic and whiny.

No way in _hell_. He wouldn't be caught _dead_ doing such a thing.

Pun one hundred percent not intended.

Tsuzuki didn't seem to buy it.

"If he can see us," Hisoka persisted, "or rather, if he can see me, then has he seen Meifu? Has he learned a way to get here? What if he _does_ come? Or what if... what if we go out on another mission and he finds us again? I led him straight to the hotel before-"

"There's no proof of that," Tsuzuki tried.

"But it's a pretty big coincidence!" Hisoka argued right back. When did he start clutching his arms? And why was his head bowed so much? Tsuzuki's hands on his legs were warm and tense and Tsuzuki was looking up at Hisoka from below his bangs and he was frowning in concern. Shit. Now he felt guilty.

"Coincidences could be coincidences. You know Muraki – if he has the chance, he'll mess with your head just for sport."

Oh, he knew that, all right. "But what if...?"

"We'll take care of it. I'll call Tatsumi right now, have him start patrols. But I'll need you to report everything Muraki's been saying to you lately."

"He hasn't said anything," Hisoka whispered. "Not recently – not since we returned."

"That's right – because you haven't been having..." Tsuzuki's voice dwindled out. "But that's not what you meant, is it?"

He flinched. Well, that had been stupid.

"Hisoka."

Uh-oh. It was the Tsuzuki-is-pissed voice, that low, almost-polite growl. He looked up at Tsuzuki like one might their executioner. "Y-Yeah?"

"Dammit, Hisoka, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

He cringed; holy shit but Tsuzuki could be loud. "It's not-"

"You're still getting injured, aren't you?! What's happened? Dammit, Hisoka, how badly have you been burned?"

Tsuzuki just grabbed him and shook him, whipping his head back and forth. That broken dam roared in his head, a tidal wave of fear and anger and hurt. And betrayal. Shit.

"Tsuzuki – Tsuzuki, stop, I can't breathe!"

Tsuzuki backed off instantly, but the emotions still surged within him.

He took a few deep breaths, then just out and out said it. "I don't want to be protected by you, Tsuzuki!" The feelings of hurt and betrayal rose to a sort of crescendo. Hisoka felt guilt eat at his chest and tried to fix his words before it was too late. "I mean... it's not that..."

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki started. It sounded like he was trying to get Hisoka to stop – like he couldn't take hearing another accusation, and just wanted Hisoka to stop talking altogether.

"No! It's not like... I just feel like I'm constantly being protected by you, Tsuzuki. How can we be partners if I can't even protect myself?!" He felt tears in his eyes and was immensely glad he'd gone back to glaring at his sheets. How humiliating. "And now I can't even defeat these dreams. I can't even make them go away – why?! Why am _I_ the only one who has these nightmares?!"

He Felt, more than saw, Tsuzuki reach out to touch him.

"I can't lose you again!" he snapped.

The hand froze in the air. Hisoka could see it now from the corner of his eye, hesitating just in that one spot, almost seeming to shiver in the hazy vision of his tears. He blinked them desperately back and tried for a calming breath. He hadn't meant to say that. But... since he had... maybe he should just go with it? "I-I... every night I try something different, as if maybe I could find a way... the one way to st-stop you..." Shit. He took another breath, swallowed hard. And bit his lip to the point of pain, only to try to stop the stuttering. "But it's always useless, no matter what I do... you always leave and enter the fire and _I can't save you_."

"Oh, Hisoka." And Tsuzuki slid up from his kneeling position and wrapped his arms around Hisoka, just as Hisoka had needed. Tsuzuki pulled him into his chest, tightly, until all he could see and smell was the older Shinigami and it was such a simple thing for him to wrap his arms around Tsuzuki's waist as Tsuzuki had wrapped his own around Hisoka's shoulders and it felt so good, so right, so perfect that it just hurt. "Hisoka, you _did_ save me. I'm right here, safe and sound. I swear, Hisoka. I'm right here."

"Tsuzuki..." It was stupid to cry. Absolutely fucking stupid. "I-I'm sorry. I'll be fine in a minute-"

"Take all the time you need."

He just clutched Tsuzuki tighter and tried to get his tears under control. "Sorry," he mumbled again when he realized that Tsuzuki's shirt was getting soaked. "You should've kept that stupid apron on... then _it_ would be the thing getting destroyed." He swallowed back a hiccup before it could escape – that would've been worse than crying, degrading to the point of hiccups and snuffles and sobs.

Tsuzuki laughed. "It's fine."

He wasn't sure just how long it took, but finally he could make sense of what he was Feeling from Tsuzuki, as if he'd had a radio on for hours but only just now began actively listening to the music. Tsuzuki Felt... calm. Happy? No. Content? Closer. But happy, too. Like he could stay like this for hours and hours, days and weeks. With Hisoka crying? No, there was still sadness and worry in there, but... he was definitely content right now. Why? How?

"Are you feeling a little better?"

"No," Hisoka responded petulantly. He sniffed. "I gotta blow my nose."

Tsuzuki just laughed again. "Hold on; I'll get you a tissue."

Hisoka was silent as Tsuzuki left the room. It had been stupid to cry on Tsuzuki like that. To talk about wanting to be on equal footing and then to fall on him like some sort of useless little girl... what was he thinking?

Tsuzuki returned, and Hisoka belatedly realized that he'd picked up the ladle on his way out of the room. "Here." He held out a tissue for Hisoka to take. "I called Tatsumi while I was out there; he said he'd take care of it and for you to just continue resting."

It was a silent minute that passed as he blew his nose and threw the used tissue into the wastebasket by the bed. He couldn't look back up at Tsuzuki. Instead he let his eyes drift over to _Othello_. Really, what had he been thinking?

"Hisoka. Tell me what happens in the dreams."

He tensed. Really, what the hell was _Tsuzuki_ thinking? "It'll just upset you," he said.

"Hisoka, it upsets me now! All I know is that what I did is hurting you. I want – no, I _need_ – to be able to help!"

Othello, Hisoka remembered, had fallen into doom from his own stupidity, his own inability to have faith. He sighed. "I... I always wake up in the fire, just away from it, watching it. And you're always in front of me. It used to be that you'd always ignore me no matter how loud I screamed..." Fucking hell, he was tearing up again. "And no matter what I said, you always just walked off, and then I would Feel you... I would Feel..." He found he had a very hard time saying it.

"Hisoka. I would never ignore you."

"Logic has nothing to do with it!" Hisoka shouted, his chest hurting. "I know you wouldn't abandon me, but I... still...! It doesn't matter when I can _Feel_ it! I can _Feel_ you disappear. I, every night, have to live through your death! Can you imagine it?! Can you possibly imagine how I..." Shit, what the hell was he saying?! He grabbed his head in his hands.

"Please, Hisoka. Continue?" Tsuzuki sat on the side of his bed again. "What happens now? What changed?"

Hisoka made doubly sure the tears in his eyes had disappeared before looking at Tsuzuki again. "You don't just walk away anymore."

Tsuzuki just blinked at him. "I don't? What do I do?"

He sounded freaking curious. "It – it depends." He looked back over to the wall. He needed to decorate more. There was only the painting that had been in here before he'd moved in, a really ugly abstract watercolor. Funny – that painting always put him on edge, oddly enough. Yeah. He should think about getting a different painting. "You do something slightly different every night now."

"Different? Like what?"

Should he say that last night Tsuzuki had grabbed his wrist when he'd reached out for the man and twisted it until it snapped, until he screamed? No, he didn't think that would be a particularly bright idea. And he probably shouldn't tell Tsuzuki about the dream he'd had while trapped by Muraki – the one in which Tsuzuki had tried to rape him. And had succeeded, until Hisoka had thrown the man into the fire himself. On accident, of course, but...

"Hisoka. _What did I do?_"

Oh, shit. He'd taken too long. "Uh, just... you would argue with me, yell at me. Mock me."

"Hisoka, I-"

"I know you wouldn't actually-"

"No! I mean, there's more to it than that. Right? That didn't get you burned."

Hisoka blushed. "Ah, that actually happened that time because I didn't move fast enough. I just... I just stayed there and didn't move, and then by the time I realized the smoke was too heavy, I _couldn't_ move."

"That time?" Tsuzuki said carefully.

Ah, shit once again. "Well, I got burned a few times..."

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki cried, "how could you hide that from me?! You could've been killed!"

Hisoka just scowled down at the book. Why, he asked himself randomly, did he even _have_ the book _Othello_?

"What would I have done – how do you think I would have felt, coming to see you and finding out that you... that you no longer existed?!"

Hisoka flinched.

"Hisoka, I can't understand how you must have felt when I... when I tried to end my existence, but I understand now how you felt when Muraki had taken me away. I lost you, remember? I had to watch you being carried away by Muraki. I had to wonder if you'd been killed because I hadn't been able to save you. Don't you think it would be even worse for me if you were _right here_?!"

"I know. I know that." He had, after all, tried so hard to get Marie out of him, to survive her destroying his soul, just so that Tsuzuki didn't have to lose Hisoka while standing right in front of him.

"Then this is something you need to tell me about! You can't hide it-"

"I'm not! Not anymore! Because-" He cut himself off then, surprised that he would actually admit such a thing. Shit. Was he even more exhausted than he'd thought? He was, after all, blabbering shit he would never in his right mind let slip out.

"Because what? Because you feel guilty? You should! Do you have any idea how worried I've been all this time?!"

He didn't need to hear this. It hurt to imagine Tsuzuki worried every night, unable to sleep, just because he was trying to cope on his own.

"I've been terrified for you! We're _partners_, Hisoka, can't you understand that? More, you're my _friend_."

Hisoka felt a very, very painful flash of pure agony.

"I can't help but worry about you. Especially... during your recoveries, you were able to sleep so peacefully, and the effect of such sleep was obvious – you got more flushed, less pale, and you were able to stand without holding a hand to your head like you're doing right now, like you're dizzy or you have a headache."

Hisoka dropped his hand.

"And then we go out on a mission and you're obviously struggling, but you won't let yourself lean on anyone, even though everyone here would be willing to help you-"

Hisoka leaned forward, slamming his hands down on his comforter. "Of course I wouldn't! Always, _always_ I'm protected by everybody else! It's like I can't do anything on my own! And that's not why I'm telling you now! I know that you worry; you always worry! You worry about everyone but yourself – I'm telling because I'm sc...! Dammit, Tsuzuki, stop making me say shit!"

They both just stared at each other in surprise for a few moments.

"You're scared?" Tsuzuki whispered finally, leaning in as well, until their hands, where they rested on the covers, almost touched. "Of what?"

Shit, shit, shit! He pulled away and moved his hand before he gave into temptation and grabbed Tsuzuki's. "No, it's-"

"Don't you pull away now," Tsuzuki growled.

He sighed and just fucking gave up. "You'll get angry. Again."

Tsuzuki considered this. "What did you do?" he asked after about a minute of silence.

Hisoka glared hotly at him. "Why do I have to have done something?"

Tsuzuki just grinned at him half-repentantly. "Well?" he pressed.

"Nothing." He struggled to get out from underneath the covers. "Nothing, forget I said anything. God, I'm hungry."

"No. Don't move. I'll fix you a bowl of soup, but we're having this out, right here, right now."

He cocked an eyebrow. "We can't have anything out when you're in the kitchen and I'm here in the bedroom."

Tsuzuki glared at him, but in the end he acceded the point. "Fine," he huffed. "Come out to the kitchen. But keep yourself wrapped in those covers," he ordered. "And you'll be sitting down the entire time. And if I think for one second that you're feeling dizzy or something, you're coming back to bed and getting your food in here. And I'll be helping you eat it."

Hisoka made a mental note not to touch his forehead in any way.

So it was like a toddler that he traipsed his way after Tsuzuki into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around him like a toga. It was pathetic that he was actually tired from the trip. He hadn't been allowed a lot of exercise yet, on doctor's orders, but still. This was ridiculous. And despite his best efforts, he still huffed out a small breath of relief when he sat tiredly in one of the kitchen chairs. Tsuzuki shot him a sharp look, one of mixed concern and anger. He just shrugged.

"Well?" Tsuzuki asked again, not letting up at all. He moved over to the cabinets. From previous visits, Tsuzuki had learned the basic layout of the room, and he pulled out a small pan and a bowl and spoon, putting the first on the stove and the others in front of Hisoka.

"Don't forget the milk," Hisoka mumbled, and looked at the bowl a bit distrustingly.

"I know. Chicken noodle?"

"Ah, tomato, please." He poked the spoon, half-bored, half hoping to put off the interrogation for a few more seconds. He really, really should have kept his mouth shut. Funny – he was usually the one good at that, while Tsuzuki had the tendency to blurt out stupid things. Ah – he was too tired to care.

"Well?" the man asked again, like a dog with a fucking bone.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki warned.

He shook his head and scooted the bowl and spoon away to make room for his head as he rested it on the table. He just couldn't keep himself awake for more than a few hours a day anymore. Tsuzuki had thought it due to his lack of proper rest for the past months, but Hisoka knew it was something much more serious than that. "Ah, it's nothing."

Tsuzuki was silent for a moment. "How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" he asked quietly.

"Four," Hisoka said without thinking.

"Four. Is that the normal number?"

"Mm-hm."

"For how long?"

Hisoka made a vague sound of indefiniteness. Then, with a small groan, he pushed himself up again. Shit. If he fell asleep, he would dream. He would get hurt again – best to just go without sleep. "I guess since the scenes changed. Since you no longer ignored me."

Tsuzuki seemed to have put the soup into the pan, because there were scraping sounds that told Hisoka that Tsuzuki was stirring something.

"Hisoka."

Damn. Back on-topic. Tsuzuki, that tenacious bastard. "Uh-huh."

Another very short silence. "It isn't like you to speak like that, Hisoka."

Saying 'uh-huh' instead of 'yeah' or 'yes.' "I know."

Stir, stir. The sound scraped at the odd silences, stretching them out a bit too long. "You're scaring me, Hisoka."

"...I know."

He could Feel the panic rising inside of his partner, but there wasn't much for it. "Ts... Tsuzuki...?"

"Yes?"

"Can I..." He cursed mentally and stared down at the table where he'd been blindly resting his head. "I think... I'm going to fade soon."

The ladle clanged against the pot. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Tsuzuki twist to him. "Wha..." the man breathed, and the panic warped until it ate Hisoka up from the inside. There was absolutely no barrier – Tsuzuki's fear was too great for him to control. "No! Hisoka-"

He hunched into himself a bit. "I can't make the nightmares go away," he said. "And the injuries get worse... and I get closer to dying each time. I don't know if I can die in the dreams, but I can feel myself... getting weaker. Every day." By the time he was done, his voice was a mere breath.

"No. No, Hisoka." Tsuzuki came up to him, soup wholly forgotten, and knelt in front of him, twisting his chair around and grabbing Hisoka's hands. Tsuzuki's were shaking. Badly. "No. You can't."

Hisoka sighed. "I'm warning you, because I made a promise and I might break it."

"That doesn't matter – that's not what – Hisoka, you _can't_." His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "You can't fade, you _can't_ leave. Not now, not after everything we've been through. Not because of this! I'll save you," he swore, suddenly so fierce that it made Hisoka shiver. "I'll save you, no matter what."

Hisoka sighed. "That's... Tsuzuki, do you remember? There was one time when you slept... with me." He flushed. "I'm... I'm desperate, Tsuzuki. I don't want to fade." He wouldn't say he was scared again, but Tsuzuki saw it nonetheless and squeezed his hands in comfort. "I'm willing to try anything. Tsuzuki... I need..."

"I'll stay," Tsuzuki said. "I'll grab my things and come right over, okay? We'll get through this, Hisoka."

"But what if..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't. It was too horrifying for words. What if it never left? What if, every night, he had to fight against the nightmares? Would he have to deal with them for the rest of eternity? He'd thought that facing them down would make them fade over time, that eventually they would begin to fade away, just like every other nightmare. But they never did. Instead they only got worse. And worse. He didn't want to be a burden to Tsuzuki, but he was even more terrified of fading away, of leaving Tsuzuki. Not only leaving the man alone, but... selfishly... he wanted to stay next to Tsuzuki forever. But at this rate...

"We'll get through it, Hisoka." Tsuzuki pressed his fingers again, but Hisoka could Feel the fear kept under tight rein. Tsuzuki was scared, too. It made him want to apologize again. It made him want to say the words he'd sworn never to voice, the three words that could destroy their partnership. More, he wanted to ask Tsuzuki just how deeply his own feelings ran.

"The soup," he whispered, and let Tsuzuki's hand slip from his; let those purple eyes turn their attention to more mundane matters and let the chance to speak the words fade away.

* * *

The soup, under Hisoka's guidance, was spared from Tsuzuki's usual lack of skill and ended up being quite good. When Hisoka had smiled a small praise, Tsuzuki had beamed. The man was so easily satisfied sometimes.

Then Tsuzuki had hustled him back to his bedroom and ushered him into bed, replacing the bedspread that Hisoka had wrapped around himself like a cocoon. With the assurance that he would return shortly, he told Hisoka to relax and wait for his return.

For nothing better to do, Hisoka picked up Othello and tried again to read the text, but it was just not what he wanted to read, and nothing terribly interesting was happening, and he'd already read it... "'My story being done,'" he read, trying to care about what Othello was saying, "'she gave me for my pains a world of sighs'... what's a world of sighs?" he mumbled. "How can a world be made up of sighs? And how can this be a good thing? Ah... 'she gave me for my pains a world of sighs; she swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange'... ah, these people spoke so _weird_... ''twas passing strange, 'twas pitiful, 'twas...'

"Tsuzuki!"

"You again." He didn't sound surprised, but rather annoyed. Hisoka, if he weren't fed to the brim with the panic that always accompanied these dreams, would be annoyed, too.

"Tsuzuki, for once... just once... please just _listen_ to me."

But he didn't listen, and once again Hisoka inevitably found himself being pushed to the ground with the fire blazing around him, and he found himself too weak to stand. Tsuzuki glared down at him, his posture one of a bully after having flushed a nerd. "Burn," Tsuzuki said, voice cruel, and turned and walked away.

"Wait... Tsuzu..."

"Hisoka!"

He flinched at the sound; it didn't belong here – Tsuzuki's voice, loud, filled with fear. He felt the fire grab his arm, Felt Tsuzuki begin to fade away... he struggled to stand, to get away, but his arms just didn't support him and he collapsed, defeated, to the ground. The fire grabbed his legs.

"Hisoka, wake up! Wake up!"

He felt someone shake him even though no one was around and sighed in relief. The real Tsuzuki had finally come for him. He would be safe now.

"Tsuzuki," he muttered, and let himself fall away from the room of fire, just as Dream-Tsuzuki did the same, just as permanently as he did in every dream.

"Hisoka!"

He let his eyes flutter open. Tsuzuki was hovering over him on the bed, eyes wide in panic. He smiled up at him. "Hey."

"H-Hisoka. Thank God." And Tsuzuki fell on top of him, crushing him into a hug. He gasped at the sudden weight, then again, in pain. Tsuzuki pushed off of him then. "You're burned again, Hisoka."

"Ah. My arm... legs." He looked at them; true enough, there were severe burns on them. They were beginning to heal already, though. He closed his eyes again. God, he was so _tired_...

"Hisoka, are you..."

"Just tired," he answered. "This always happens, whenever I fall asleep. I always have the dream, and I get injured, and then I get healed and I get tired again..."

Tsuzuki let out a shuttering breath. "You were so still, for a moment I thought... but then I saw the burns growing, and..." He took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, flipping himself underneath the covers. "Go back to sleep, Hisoka. I'll stay with you for the rest of the day and night."

"Did you eat?" he asked.

"I will when you wake up. We'll eat together."

"You need to take care of yourself," Hisoka said, words spoken more out of reflex than anything else.

"I will," Tsuzuki promised, and leaned over and kissed Hisoka's forehead. Hisoka flushed beet red. "Rest now. I'm here. I'm right here; you don't need to worry. We're both safe..."

He sighed and turned instinctively into Tsuzuki's warmth. "Tsuzuki..."

Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka and hugged him even closer. Hisoka felt Tsuzuki's heart beating fast, still reacting from the fear from earlier, but Tsuzuki's voice was soft and soothing and gentle, and Hisoka let it lull him to sleep.


	2. Eat Your Heart Out

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

That's What Love Is For

* * *

He awoke without any injuries, without any pain, and without any echoing feeling of loss.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here; I'm safe. Go on and rest, little 'Soka."

Tsuzuki sounded tired. How many times, Hisoka wondered, had he said such things? How many times had Hisoka begun to jerk and writhe, only to be called back from the nightmares? He felt guilty just at the thought, then happy, then embarrassed. When, exactly, had Tsuzuki begun to call him 'little 'Soka'?

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka said sleepily, to let the man know that this time he really was awake.

"Hisoka – you're awake? Oh, thank God." And Tsuzuki entered his vision. "How do you feel?"

He took inventory. He wasn't injured, and he no longer felt like he was going to collapse if he breathed heavily. "Much better," he told Tsuzuki, who seemed wholly relieved to hear the report. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Ah – over twenty-four hours." He heard the sound of what was definitely a book hitting the floor. The hard thunk made his brain rattle.

"What?" he gasped. "That long?"

"Mm," Tsuzuki confirmed. "And it's odd, 'Soka – every four hours, on the dot, you started to dream."

Weird. He laid a hand over his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry – you couldn't have gotten much rest."

"It's fine. I just had to wake up for a few minutes, then I could go back to sleep. I may not get a completely restful night, but... I haven't been able to get one for a while now, anyway." And then there was that weird Feeling again, the Feel of contentment laced with concern. Hisoka peeked out from underneath his arm to see Tsuzuki's expression. As he thought, there was a slight smile on the man's face. "In the end, Hisoka, I feel a lot better, being able to stay with you and call away the nightmares. It's much better than trying to sleep in my room and worrying about how you're doing."

That small smile was looking away, towards the kitchen – no, past that, out of Hisoka's apartment and probably over to his own, where he'd probably tossed and turned in his worry. It made Hisoka feel even guiltier.

"I'm hungry," Hisoka grumbled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. "Are you?" He knew without a doubt that Tsuzuki hadn't left him the entire time he'd slept, which meant that Tsuzuki would _definitely_ be hungry.

"Yeah." Tsuzuki turned that smile on him. Ah. Unfair.

"Then let's eat. Hey," he said as he stood, turning to Tsuzuki. "Let's order something. Do you think Wakaba would mind if we asked her to..?" He was thinking, of course, of Tsuzuki's insatiable appetite for sweets.

Tsuzuki shook his head vehemently. "Mm-mn! She wouldn't mind at all! Although _he_ might..." he mumbled, and he started grumbling about Terazuma.

"He'll get over it," Hisoka said negligibly. "It's for me, after all. Oh, and, um... thank you. For..." He blushed again. When he'd woken up, he hadn't been wrapped around Tsuzuki like a leech anymore, but that was probably because Tsuzuki had been reading. What had he been reading? He turned to ask, but he saw Othello lying haphazardly on the floor and just sighed. While he was getting the new painting, he should also get a couple new books.

"Hisoka, you shouldn't be up," Tsuzuki started, but this time he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Hisoka's eyebrow twitched. Sure. The visiting began _now_. When he was beginning to make progress.

...Progress in what, exactly?

He moved out of the bedroom as Tsuzuki scrambled out of the bed. "Hisoka!" Tsuzuki called, clearly exasperated.

But Hisoka was already at the door and opening it. Watari and Tatsumi both stood before his entrance, Watari waving enthusiastically and Tatsumi serious, as usual. A quick delve into emotions showed Watari's feelings easily enough – concern and relief, most likely to see him walking around under his own willpower and not leaning heavily on the door – which he would have been doing just yesterday... well, the day before yesterday, actually. But Tatsumi, as usual, was a complete blank.

"Kurosaki," Tatsumi said, nodding his head.

"Hiya, boyo!" Watari said, completely offsetting the mood Tatsumi just created. Watari just charged right into the house. "Oi, boyo, I've told you about decorating, haven't I?" Watari said, looking around. "Oh, well – it's perfect! I can just give you my brand-new, fantastic little invention that I call-"

"That's fine," Hisoka sighed, fighting a smile. "I've already decided to redecorate."

Watari paused mid-rant, shocked. "You? _You_ decided to fix up this place? Ah, boyo, you really are sick, aren't you? How bad is it? Do you have a temperature?" And Watari put a hand on his forehead.

"Watari," Hisoka growled.

"Watari, please stop," Tsuzuki said, stumbling into the room. Hisoka noted that Tsuzuki had taken the chance to get his hair in some semblance of order so that it wasn't immediately obvious that the two of them had slept together.

Hisoka stared at the floor and blushed.

"Ah, Tsuzuki, you're here, too. Perfect. I came to check on what you told me yesterday."

"And I tagged along to check on the boyo!" Watari chirped, his hand whipping into the air. Little 003 flew off his shoulder and began circling madly above his head. Hisoka let himself lean back onto the wall. Though Watari's very existence in a room was tiring, the man had this aura around him that exuded, if not tranquility, then definitely togetherness. It never failed to raise Hisoka's spirits.

Tatsumi just sighed and stepped around him. "Is there somewhere where we can all talk?"

Hisoka nodded. "The kitchen." And he led everyone there.

Once everyone was seated, 003 calmed down enough to sit back down on Watari's shoulder again. Tatsumi leaned forward onto the table, wasting no time, and crossed his hands in front of him. "Hisoka. You say you've seen Muraki in your dreams?"

Hisoka shook his head, blushing now for a wholly different reason. "No, I don't see him, per se. I hear him."

"Hear him?" Tatsumi echoed.

"Yes." He sighed and leaned back, trying to bring back the length of the table between them. Tatsumi, across from him, looked perturbed. Tsuzuki, on his right, looked unsettled, and Watari mirrored the image.

"And you believe he can see what you do?"

"I think so. He arrived during our search for Amara, and then he found us at the hotel on our last mission."

Hm." Tatsumi crossed his arms and leaned back, as well. "The circumstances certainly don't look promising."

Tsuzuki leaned forward then, putting his hands on the table. "But Tatsumi, how's that possible? I mean, they're just nightmares, right? Albeit bad ones, but still..."

Tatsumi just hummed in thought. Watari turned to Hisoka. "But if he can somehow see through you in your dreams, or at least follow your dreams' events in some way, how could he see you through your waking hours, too? Has he ever 'spoken' to you during the times you _weren't_ dreaming?"

Surprised, Hisoka shook his head. "No. I don't remember that ever happening."

"Hm." And he crossed his arms and thought in silence, too.

It took maybe another two seconds for the silence to get oppressive. Hisoka scooted back his chair and stood. "I'll go get some tea," he said, and moved over to the stove.

"Ah – I'll help, 'Soka." And with another short screech, Tsuzuki stood and followed him.

So Tsuzuki got out the tray and cups while Hisoka grabbed the teapot and filled it and set it to boil. Then Tsuzuki pulled out the teabags and they were left to wait in silence.

"Hisoka, I'm sure everything will be all right," Tsuzuki said quietly, but Hisoka could Feel his uncertainty. He nodded to acknowledge he'd heard but didn't say anything. Tsuzuki just sighed. When the teapot whistled, neither jumped, both all too willing to finish up and return to Tatsumi and Watari and find out what they were thinking. And escape the odd atmosphere of the room all the sooner.

When they returned to the table, Tatsumi was still in the same position he'd been in before, his brows now furrowed. Watari was cooing to 003 and playing with the owlet's beak. "Ah, boyo, you're back. Great. Thanks," he said, accepting his tea.

"Thank you," Tatsumi said, much more solemn, when Hisoka gave him his tea. Hisoka felt a small fluttering of panic. Then when everyone's tea was placed on the table, Tsuzuki took the tray back to the counter.

"Kurosaki, Watari has a theory."

A theory?

Hisoka turned to Watari, and the blond left off fooling around with 003. "Ah, I'll wait until Tsuzuki comes back." And they did, just sitting and playing with their cups, waiting for it to cool a bit, until Tsuzuki returned and sat in his seat. "Now then. I've thought about what you said, boyo. About how Muraki only speaks during the dream?"

"Yes." Hisoka tensed, waiting for the worst.

"Well," he said slowly, "did you ever think that maybe the dreams are... a curse of some sort?"

Somehow it was worse than Hisoka had thought. Still, he had to sigh in relief. "So you don't think he's seen Meifu in any way?"

"No," Tatsumi said. "But this is just as, if not more, serious. You may be in danger, Kurosaki."

Hisoka Felt a painful warp of emotions from both Tsuzuki and, oddly enough, Tatsumi, before they were carefully tamped down. "You mean to say," Tsuzuki said quietly, "that Hisoka may have been cursed by Muraki – _again_? Why? What has Muraki to gain from this?"

"I don't know that one," Watari said. "Maybe... boyo, when did these nightmares begin?"

"After getting Tsuzuki back from Muraki," Hisoka said promptly. That one was an easy question to answer. "I know for certain, because I thought at first that it was just a reaction from... from the events of that day."

Tsuzuki winced.

"But then they got worse instead of better, and I heard Muraki speak to me during the dream. That's when I started to consider the conclusion I told Tsuzuki." He carefully judged the temperature of his tea with his hands, then took a cautious sip.

"Then maybe it had been planned for Tsuzuki?" Watari said, speaking more to himself than the others in the room.

"For Tsuzuki?" Hisoka repeated, almost dropping his cup. He carefully put it back down. "What do you mean? Muraki had wanted Tsuzuki to have these nightmares? But how could they affect Tsuzuki?"

"Maybe the content wasn't set in stone; just the theory behind it. The dream, it involves Tsuzuki's death, right?" At Hisoka's careful nod, Watari continued. "Then maybe it's supposed to exploit a fear of the dreamer."

Hisoka wanted to ask why it wasn't of that night he'd met Muraki, but he thought he already had the answer to that: because the fear of losing Tsuzuki was greater than anything else. "Then why did it get me?" he asked, letting the earlier question slide.

"I don't know, boyo," Watari sighed. "I'm at the limit of my genius. Maybe if I studied it a bit more... what happens in the dreams?"

And Hisoka clammed up.

After an awkward silence, Tsuzuki spoke up. "It's just about that night, Watari," he said quietly.

Watari seemed to understand that he'd stepped into uninhabitable territory and gracefully backed out. "Well, I'll think about it and see if I can come up with anything, okay?"

Hisoka nodded, grateful. "I'd be in your debt."

"Save it," Watari said, waving it away, jostling 003 so that the little guy had to flap his wings to keep his balance. Then he took a big slurp of his tea and smacked his lips. "I swear you have the best tea in Meifu, boyo." The blond winked.

Hisoka looked over at Tatsumi, who, unlike Watari, was drinking his tea properly, and shook his head. He highly doubted that he had the best tea, considering.

Then they got into mundane chatter for a time; Watari and Tsuzuki discussed a new dessert that Wakaba had found, and Tsuzuki pleaded with Hisoka to allow him to get the dessert when they ordered their meal. Tatsumi teased Tsuzuki about his eating habits, eliciting the usual puppy-dog response from Tsuzuki. Hisoka just leaned back and sipped his tea and allowed himself to relax in the still-odd feeling of camaraderie that filled his apartment to the brim.

It felt strange, but it felt _good_. He wouldn't let this feeling go, no matter what. It took him until death, but he finally found a place where he felt he could belong, with friends that worried about him to the point of visiting him at his place.

And someone even more special than that.

No. Muraki wouldn't take this place from him. He wouldn't let it happen.

* * *

"Hisoka, you're in no shape to... Hisoka! Stop!" Tsuzuki tried to grab his shinai as he arched it down, but Hisoka managed to dodge Tsuzuki's hand and stepped to the side.

It was a bit difficult to do his forms inside the house, so he'd sneaked out while Tsuzuki was in the bathroom, more for fun than for anything else. Tsuzuki had predictably followed, and he'd predictably freaked out. Hisoka was tired from just the couple of minutes of exercising, but it felt good to be _doing_ something. Especially after the resolve he'd felt during his time with Watari and Tatsumi.

"Hisoka, one night of rest doesn't make up for everything you've lost!" Tsuzuki snapped.

Ignoring him and grinning widely internally, he threw his shinai at Tsuzuki's head. He stopped just before he hit his partner. Tsuzuki blinked at him in surprise.

"Spar with me."

Tsuzuki just blinked at him again, seemingly unable to understand the words that had come out of Hisoka's mouth. "What?"

"Spar with me," he repeated, slower, as if speaking to someone who had yet to learn the language. And he thrust his shinai at Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki dodged more from some sort of habit than in cooperation. "Hisoka, what are you doing? You're still recovering!"

"Then hurry up and spar with me!" Hisoka suggested, running after his partner. Tsuzuki was lithe and graceful, despite how clunky he acted, and he managed to dodge all of Hisoka's attacks. It was better, a thousand times better than simply practicing his katas; he was able to actually _fight_ someone, be it mock or not. He struggled to land a hit as Tsuzuki just moved around in an odd pattern.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki tried again, then stopped and hopped to the right.

It was exhilarating. Moreover, it was _fun_. It was almost like playing. He felt his lips pull up in a small smile and turned it feral, aiming for Tsuzuki's stomach, trusting his partner to dodge.

Tsuzuki didn't disappoint, twirling over to the right again and stopping by Hisoka's side. He lifted a finger to Hisoka's waist, a sign of impending victory.

Hisoka dropped into a quick crouch and swung his shinai across, going for Tsuzuki's knees. The man simply jumped over Hisoka's sword and reached forward again. Hisoka had to roll back to avoid him that time.

When he hopped back to his feet, Tsuzuki was grinning, too, and was launching himself forward.

When Tsuzuki grabbed his shinai, he simply pushed himself off of it and launched himself back and then simply charged forward again. Though Hisoka could tell that Tsuzuki was holding himself back a bit, he couldn't help the delighted laugh when he managed a glancing blow on his partner's shoulder just as Tsuzuki was once again dodging to the right. Tsuzuki's eyes glinted oddly, his smile widening, and he was suddenly sliding under Hisoka's shinai and was right in front of him, Hisoka's swing still continuing to the side, and Tsuzuki simply touched Hisoka's forehead.

"I win," the violet-eyed Shinigami said, that odd glint to his eyes telling of something more than just victory.

"I'll get you next time," Hisoka assured him.

"Uh-huh." There seemed to be an interesting amount of sarcasm in that. "Come on, let's get you back up to your room; you're sweaty and shivering and this _couldn't_ have been good for you."

"I'm fine," Hisoka said, readjusting his grip on the handle of his shinai. It was a good thing, though, that they'd fought in the safety of the open field behind the apartment buildings, or else he'd have been in trouble. Tsuzuki just huffed a sigh and turned to the buildings, leaving Hisoka to trail along after him.

It took only half a step for Hisoka to realize that he wasn't as fine as he'd thought.

And about a quarter of a second to smash face-first into the ground.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki yelped, turning and immediately grabbing Hisoka up. Hisoka leaned a hand on Tsuzuki's shoulder and took a few deep breaths. He hadn't really felt it before, but he wasn't shivering so much as trembling. Had he overexerted himself? Ah, but if he admitted that, Tsuzuki would chain him to his bed.

"I'm fine; it's nothing, just a little dizzy." Yeah, like that wouldn't put Tsuzuki into mother-hen mode. "Thanks for practicing with me," he said, quickly changing the subject.

Tsuzuki just sighed and pulled Hisoka closer, until the taller man's hands could easily wrap around Hisoka and help him stay on his feet as they made their way back to Hisoka's room. "Of course I did; I wouldn't just stand there watching you hurt yourself, and I wasn't going to leave, and for a minute it was fun..." And Tsuzuki just rattled away while they made their way into the building and up to Hisoka's floor. And when they got there, Hisoka finally pushed away from Tsuzuki and pulled his key out, letting the both of them back inside. Then he placed his shinai in its corner and went to the bathroom.

"Hisoka, what are you doing?"

"Taking a quick shower," he answered, and watched Tsuzuki's mother-hen hands drop to his sides.

"And then you're going to bed," Tsuzuki said firmly.

Hisoka blatantly ignored him, firmly shutting the bathroom door behind him.

It took him a minute to decide to get his butt in gear and strip. He really was tired, but he felt refreshed, better than he had for quite a while, and it had been wonderful – ugh, such a girly word – to spar with Tsuzuki. He'd felt like laughing.

It took him until he had the water running to remember that he actually _had_ laughed.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, and just stood there in a crouch as the water heated on his fingers.

He'd laughed. He'd completely forgotten himself and laughed. Like a kid. Like a schoolboy. Like Tsuzuki when he watched 003 do a new trick. Like someone who hadn't been raped and cursed at age thirteen. No, more – like someone who hadn't been plagued his entire life by Feeling other people's scorn and hatred.

How? It was such a strange thing, such an odd occurrence, it should have just slammed into him like a ton of bricks and knocked him on his ass. It should have sent his mind spinning. He'd _laughed_.

But, he considered as he turned on the shower and felt the hot spray hit his weary muscles, maybe it was because he and Tsuzuki had been alone back there. And Tsuzuki, once he'd let his guard down and had stopped obsessing over Hisoka's health, had been filled with emotions that had not only matched Hisoka's but somehow fed them – Tsuzuki's light competitiveness, his excitement, his happiness, his frivolous cheer... it had all made Hisoka feel light and cheery, too, like they were two friends playing a game of catch, or a pair of...

He stood straight, eyes wide. Had he been thinking '_a pair of lovers on a date'?_ Oh, shit. He couldn't let himself think like that – it hurt too much, it wasn't safe. Tsuzuki was his partner, his best friend, his confidante. The person he trusted more than anyone else. And he could Feel, sometimes, those exact same emotions in Tsuzuki. But for Tsuzuki, love was such a freely given emotion that it mixed too easily with deep companionship. Hisoka could Feel those same damn emotions coming off of Tsuzuki when the man turned to Tatsumi, and even similarly when he looked at Watari or Wakaba. Hisoka didn't rise above them in any way emotionally; he was the exact same.

Hisoka snatched the soap and determinedly pushed away that damn errant thought of the two of them standing under the sakura trees and not just acting out the role of partners against a foe. Erased the image of them holding hands. He wasn't a freaking romantic, anyway, so why did these pictures always crop up unbidden in his head? Tsuzuki would probably freak out if he learned what Hisoka was thinking.

He lathered his hands and put the soap back. He didn't care enough just then to use a washcloth – he just needed something to _do_ with himself. "Tsuzuki is just a friend," he whispered to himself, so low he couldn't even hear it, just in case Tsuzuki was listening to make sure he hadn't passed out or something. The words strung together easily now. They'd become his mantra.

_Tsuzuki is just a friend. Tsuzuki is just a friend._

He wanted a lot more than that.

Ah, stupid, stupid! He scowled at the wall and just fucking well dropped it. It didn't matter, anyway... whether he wanted more or not, it was Tsuzuki's decision. And, Hisoka thought with a dry chuckle, Tsuzuki was far too indecisive to choose something that important.

* * *

"Hisoka, why aren't you sleeping?"

_Because_, Hisoka wanted to answer petulantly, huddling a bit more under the covers, _I'd been too tired to notice before, but you smell really, really good._ And Tsuzuki had unconsciously pulled Hisoka into his chest, so the smell was freaking _everywhere_. And so was the heat from Tsuzuki's skin, and the feel of Tsuzuki's arm was both rigid and smooth at the same time, and Hisoka was far, far too aware of it.

That was why.

Hisoka just mumbled something unintelligible and carefully kept his eyes closed.

Tsuzuki was oblivious, of course, and just pulled Hisoka in a little tighter. "Don't worry, I'll be here the entire time. I won't let the nightmares take you..."

It wasn't the right reason, and it didn't take away any of the many distractions that Tsuzuki's body was offering, but somehow nonetheless Tsuzuki's voice calmed him and he finally, finally managed to drift to sleep.

It was odd, he thought, to have a normal dream, or at least a _more_ normal dream. One where he didn't have to worry about fire or death or an injury that would remain when he awakened. This dream was strange and special in its own way, because he'd never had anything like it before.

He was on a bed, and Tsuzuki was with him. For a moment he thought it was real life, because they were definitely in his room, but the light was glowing strangely and Tsuzuki was leaning over him.

And then Tsuzuki's lips were on his, and he felt an odd warmth taking over his entire body. He jerked at it, at the almost-too-hot feel of it, as Tsuzuki's hands slipped down his body and pulled up his shirt.

"Wha-"

"Shh." And Tsuzuki pulled it over his head and kissed him again, a deep, heated kiss that somehow tasted of Tsuzuki's scent, and Tsuzuki pulled back and began traveling down his neck, licking the pulse beating just there on the side, and he gasped.

Tsuzuki's hands were gentle, ever so gentle, as they played across Hisoka's nipples. The heat inside him turned to a raging fire, a painful volcano that centered at his groin, and then he felt himself harden. He groaned.

It was strange to feel Tsuzuki's lips take over where his fingers left off; it felt nothing at all like Muraki, or like Dream-Tsuzuki. And when Tsuzuki's hands dipped lower, catching in his jeans, playing idly with the button, he reacted wholly differently than he had with those other two – he lifted his hips and bucked, moaning again.

And Tsuzuki chuckled a breathy laugh. "All right," he whispered, and one of those hands reached inside his jeans until-

"Hisoka, wake up!"

He flinched awake and groaned. He felt warm, almost hot, and uncomfortable. He groaned again and let his eyes slit open.

Tsuzuki leaned over top of him, looking down with worried amethyst eyes.

He jerked backwards into the mattress. "What the hell?" he grumbled.

"I don't know," Tsuzuki confessed. "You were moaning and mumbling in your sleep. Were you having the dream again?"

Hisoka blushed to his roots, then even harder when he realized he was uncomfortable because he was hard. "Ah... uhm..." He shook his head. "No, it was... a normal dream..."

Tsuzuki made a surprised little 'oh' sound and pushed himself back onto his haunches. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"No, it's fine," Hisoka mumbled, but he found he had to get the fuck up and get rid of his little problem. He was damned if he'd let Tsuzuki see it.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki's gaze followed him out of the bed.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he lied, and shuffled as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion until he was finally safe in the bathroom. _Sanctuary_.

He _did_ end up going to the bathroom afterward, if only to lend credence to his lie. But it left him a bit too open to thought, and his mind wanted to replay the scene in his head a little too vividly. Shit. And he'd told himself to just drop the damn subject.

Still... still, it was so odd, almost scary, that he'd had such a dream. It was his first, wasn't it? He couldn't remember ever having one before. And it was about Tsuzuki... he groaned a little before managing to cut off the noise. Shit, shit, shit.

But a part of him was relieved. A tiny, sort of insecure part of him had been terrified that he'd lost that ability after... after Muraki, and he would never get the chance to experience that sort of pleasure, even _if_ Tsuzuki reciprocated his feelings. So mixed in with the acute horror was a sense of relief and... and almost of accomplishment. Did that dream mean he was moving forward, out of the clutches of Muraki's control? Did the dream signify his sense of freedom from the cursed life placed on him?

Or was it just a teenager's overactive libido?

That almost shocked a laugh out of him, and made him wonder: if he was going to continually stay in this exact form, did that mean that he would have a teenager's libido forever?

The laugh that wanted to escape then almost seemed a bit... hysterical, so he just swallowed it back and flushed the toilet, rearranging his boxers and pajamas – Tsuzuki had _made_ him change into something more 'cozy' than the simple slacks he'd been willing to don.

He washed his hands then and just let the water play over his palms for a minute. The fact remained, in the end, that he'd dreamed about Tsuzuki in an extremely intimate – he almost snorted at the understatement – position, and he had to return to the bed and act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't imagined those slender fingers pressing down on his-

He blushed. Oh, hell.

Tsuzuki knocked on the bathroom door. "Hisoka, are you sure you're all right? Was it really a normal dream?"

Normal? What was normal? Was it normal to fantasize about your partner pleasuring you? Was it normal to want your partner so badly it made you physically ill? "Of course it was," he said plainly, turning off the water. He dried his hands quickly and opened the door, where Tsuzuki stared down at him, his elbow leaning against the door jamb. Hisoka's heart thudded funnily. With the gray of pre-dawn lighting up Tsuzuki's features from behind, he looked like...

Like a man just awakening from a bout of sex.

Hisoka blushed again. Oh shit. Oh God. Oh so not good.

"Hisoka?"

Oh hell oh hell oh hell. He cleared his throat. "It's nothing, Tsuzuki – let's go back to bed."

Hisoka slid past his partner – who, dammit, had gone to bed in nothing more than slacks, the bastard, which had most certainly _not_ helped Hisoka fall asleep – and sat on the bed, pushing back the covers.

"But Hisoka, if you really did have the dream..."

"I didn't. I wouldn't have woken up so calmly if I had." He carefully did _not_ look over to Tsuzuki, but instead settled down in his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Shit. He just realized – they'd gone to sleep in the middle of the day, and it was pre-dawn. Damn.

He couldn't stop the yawn as he sat back up. Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow at the unexpected movement, but both shot up when Hisoka slid out of bed. "Hisoka?"

"Breakfast," he muttered, and trudged over to the kitchen.

"You're hungry?" Tsuzuki seemed to doubt it.

"Hungry enough to keep myself awake," he mumbled, and pulled open a cupboard drawer. "Hope you don't mind cereal – I'm not in the mood to cook."

"It's fine," Tsuzuki said cautiously, obviously feeling the weird mood that had settled over Hisoka.

It was in silence that they both ate, Tsuzuki's worry increasing almost every moment. "I'm fine," Hisoka sighed, fishing around in his bowl for the last few pieces of his American cereal.

"You still seem so tired," Tsuzuki told him, and his concern was so touching it made Hisoka's skin warm. That and Tsuzuki had yet to put on a shirt, and those chest muscles were rippling as he took careful bites of the breakfast Hisoka had bought just for Tsuzuki – some Frosted Flakes thing that promised to have sugar.

"Ah – tired, right. Well, I haven't gotten very much sleep for the past... well, for months." He finished his last bite and carefully sipped the rest of the milk. Tsuzuki was still munching away – of course, he'd gotten a second bowl somewhere in there – so he settled on taking his dish to the sink and cleaning it, simply setting it aside to dry on its own. Tsuzuki shortly came up and did the same with his, and Hisoka suspected the man was trying to silently stay on Hisoka's odd schedule, trying to not make Hisoka stay up just because Tsuzuki was awake. But Tsuzuki _had_ to want to do something other than babysit him sleeping all day.

"I know you haven't gotten a lot of sleep, Hisoka, but does this seem... odd... in any way to you?"

Hisoka thought of his dream and blushed. "What's odd?" he demanded, a bit more rudely than intended.

Tsuzuki was oddly undisturbed by it this time, and Hisoka realized that Tsuzuki was used to him getting defensive when there really _was_ something to worry about. Shit. He hadn't realized Tsuzuki had gotten to that point. "There's tired, Hisoka, and then there's practically comatose."

"Tsuzuki, I've been getting no more than four hours of sleep for a very, _very_ long time." He said it so wearily that for a moment Tsuzuki had absolutely nothing he could say to it. Hisoka slipped past him again, this time returning to the bedroom. Whether Tsuzuki wanted it or not, he _had_ to get some more sleep, and right now.

Gods, if he weren't so damn tired, he'd be pissed about it all.

Hisoka was unsurprised when Tsuzuki came up behind him, silently taking his place under the sheets on the other side. Hisoka allowed himself to appreciate the look of those muscles contracting for only one short second before looking away, blushing so hard it almost seared his face, and got in on his own side.

"We'll do something else next time," he told Tsuzuki, rolling over to show the man his back. "I won't go straight back to sleep next time, okay?"

"...It's fine," Tsuzuki said quietly. Hisoka got a nice, solid taste of Tsuzuki's fear for him and just sighed.

"Good night."

Tsuzuki was silent for so long that Hisoka was practically asleep when he heard Tsuzuki whisper to him, so soft as to be hardly discernible, "please wake up."


	3. Fish or Cut Bait

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

That's What Love Is For

* * *

He couldn't move.

It was, oddly, the exact first thing he noticed. Then a second later, he tried to curse, and he noticed that he couldn't speak, either.

His heart thumped very, very painfully inside him as he felt a very familiar heat.

His eyes were open, but it only just then seemed to register on him that he was back in the dream. But how? How could he have possibly been there? Tsuzuki was with him – if he so much as made a peep, Tsuzuki was right there to calm him down. Had Tsuzuki left the room? But the man knew better; he wouldn't do that, and besides, even if he did he would come back and see Hisoka's state and Hisoka would be saved from this place.

The relief from that realization was immediately swept away when Tsuzuki's form was made visible between the flames. Tsuzuki turned his head and looked back behind him. He saw Hisoka and grinned.

"I won't let you escape this place, my little doll."

Hisoka's heart lurched. Muraki. Muraki was talking to him again? His heart started beating double-time. How? Why? What did he mean, 'I won't let you escape'?

Dream-Tsuzuki turned to him and stepped through the flames, which seemed to almost move aside for the him. Then when Tsuzuki got right in front of him, he reached up his hand and – Hisoka flinched – gently caressed his cheek. He said nothing.

"This will be your second home until you do what little Marie could not."

Marie. His breath whooshed out. He knew about Marie – but of course he did, Muraki had been... this _had_ to be the real Muraki. He – the real Muraki – had even known about his little confession to Tsuzuki in one of the dreams, when he'd been trying desperately to stop Tsuzuki from erasing his own existence and had dumbly shouted out that he loved the man.

But then that meant that Muraki really was controlling these dreams – not surprising, a part of him told himself – and wanted these dreams to... to what? Weaken Hisoka? But he was about to fade, so wouldn't that completely ruin the point of doing this?!

"Tell them, little boy. Tell them that you can't escape the fire. Tell them there _is_ no escape. Not until your soul is mine. If you don't want to fade away, little boy, come to me."

_Never!_ he wanted to shout, but his lips were clamped shut. The Dream-Tsuzuki in front of him grinned again before backhanding him. His body didn't move at the contact, but he still felt the sting, felt blood in his mouth.

"I will not let you escape, not after waiting so long for results. I'd been disappointed initially, of course, since it was you I'd received, but in the end it worked out even better than I had planned. I will have not only Saki's body and mind, but also his soul!" And the man laughed, so loud and clear and full of madness that Hisoka felt chills race up his spine.

Dream-Tsuzuki punched him then, and then again, and Hisoka found himself unable to move away from the assault, unable to even gasp as one rib, then another was broken, and Muraki just laughed and laughed...

When he awoke, it was with absolutely no flourish whatsoever – his eyes simply snapped open.

"'S'okay, 'Soka," Tsuzuki mumbled, and Hisoka realized with a start that he could clearly see dawn playing outside his window.

No more than an hour had passed.

"Tsuzuki," he whispered, and only when he was certain he could talk again did he move.

He rolled over and clung to Tsuzuki's shirt desperately.

"...Mnn-huh? Hisoka?" Tsuzuki, now successfully awake, was bowed over, so Hisoka knew he was trying to stare at him, but Hisoka had already grabbed at Tsuzuki's chest and was huddled into it like a little child, too terrified to act more composed.

"Hisoka, what – oh my God. Hisoka, your lip is bleeding."

He knew. He could taste it.

"Tsuzuki," he said again, then just repeated the name. How he'd wanted to call out for the man while he stood powerless under Muraki's control. _Again_. And before he knew it, he was crying. "Tsuzuki... _shit_."

"How?" Tsuzuki breathed. "How did this happen?"

"He... Tsuzuki, he...!" He wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki and just held on, as if maybe doing it could stop the dreams from grabbing him ever again. He felt pain shoot up and down him and couldn't help the sharp cry of pain.

"Hisoka – oh God, what happened? Why didn't I wake up?" Tsuzuki cursed himself, gently pushing Hisoka onto his back. He cried out again at the very distinct feeling of his ribs moving inside him. Tsuzuki prepared a body search, his violet eyes staring at Hisoka's left cheek.

"Don't – ribs," he gasped. Tsuzuki immediately understood and hissed. There were actual tears in the man's eyes. "Tsuzuki, I can't... I can't do this again," he had to say.

"Hold on, Hisoka... we'll get through this." But Tsuzuki was despairing, too.

He had to be strong. For Tsuzuki. "I'll... I'll heal in a bit."

"Hisoka, how...?"

He had his own theory about that. Pretty slick, huh? Didn't need Watari for everything. "He was back, Tsuzuki. Muraki. He came back, and I couldn't move."

Tsuzuki's hands were hovering over him, wanting to help but afraid to hurt. "You couldn't move?" he repeated.

"No. And I couldn't talk, and I didn't move or anything even when... even when I was being hurt. I think that's why... I didn't move, Tsuzuki. Not even here – I stayed still, maybe."

Tsuzuki's hand seemed to wobble in midair. It was shaking. "Oh God."

"It's okay," Hisoka soothed. "If you don't mind doing an even bigger favor for me."

"Hisoka?"

Hisoka's mind had already pieced together what they needed to do. "Tsuzuki, no one sleeps completely still; everyone shuffles around in their sleep. If I go too still, I need you to wake me up."

"Hisoka... I'm sorry, but I don't know that I can always catch that quickly enough..." Tsuzuki looked absolutely stricken, and Hisoka could almost hear the man berating himself for his imperfections.

"I know that, Tsuzuki. I... I'm asking for something that might actually be worse than that." Ah, thank goodness; his body was beginning to heal.

"I don't understand."

"Tsuzuki, I need you to be awake while I sleep."

At Tsuzuki's shocked expression, Hisoka sat up. "Only for a while," he said, "until... until I – we," he quickly amended, seeing Tsuzuki's face begin to harden in determination, "figure out what to do." Which may very well be impossible.

But Tsuzuki was nodding, and he seemed to have somehow revived himself, so Hisoka guessed it was okay. For now.

Tsuzuki propped himself up on the bedpost. "I'll stay up," he said, "so you can rest up and heal faster."

Hisoka hesitated, then carefully propped himself up, as well, and carefully gave Tsuzuki a measured look. "There are... a couple other things to tell," he admitted, and received a Feeling of sharp little spikes of fear that seemed to match a pulse. "For instance, that Watari was right. Muraki... is the cause of this."

And then the fear was swallowed up by hate. "How?" Tsuzuki asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"I... I don't know." Hisoka considered not telling Tsuzuki the rest, but in the end, it was just too important, especially for whatever Watari may have been trying to figure out, to let it go. "He said... this... whatever-it-is... was meant for you, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki jerked, causing the headboard to bang against the wall.

"And," Hisoka bulldozed ahead, "he said that the dreams were meant for you as some sort of plan of his, but that them being given to me instead worked out for the better in the end." He just cut through Tsuzuki's semi-horrified reaction, continuing. "And he said that he would have not only Saki's body – you, I'm guessing," just the idea pissed him off, "but also his soul. It... it goes back to what he'd been planning before."

Tsuzuki blinked for a moment, belatedly realizing that everyone had been so worried about Hisoka's dreams that they'd somehow neglected to ask exactly what Muraki had been doing to Hisoka during those days in the abandoned SM building.

So Hisoka ended up segueing straight from the dreams to Marie, explaining how, after having 'met' Amara inside of him, Muraki had begun trying to create a sort of replica of her, how that had ended up being what had happened to Serendipity and the others – the rejects of his experiments – and how the man had successfully made Marie to the point where she had enough form to attack him. Then he tried to explain the convoluted thought processes of the madman, how he'd thought that weakening Hisoka's soul could make it possible for him to extract Hisoka's soul from his Shinigami body and then somehow use his soul to make it possible for... Saki? ...Saki's soul to be inside Tsuzuki's body either before, during, or after the transplant of Saki's remains into and on Tsuzuki's body.

The idea of the operation made Hisoka feel sick.

Tsuzuki was leaning heavily on the headboard, apparently shocked to the point of speechlessness. "All this," he gasped, "just to bring one person back?"

"Was the man important to him?" Hisoka wondered, bitterly trying to imagine the sort of man Saki would had to have been to be important to that murderer.

"He's doing this to so many just to bring someone _back_?" Tsuzuki repeated, his horrified voice jerking Hisoka out of his own thoughts. Hisoka was forcefully reminded of Tsuzuki's horror over the lives he'd blamed himself for.

He carefully touched Tsuzuki's shoulder. Tsuzuki's eyes were wide with sorrow, so much so that Hisoka hurt for him. Those eyes shouldn't be clouded with such sadness. "Hey. We'll stop him, Tsuzuki. I swear it."

Ah, a promise he didn't know he could keep. Hadn't he berated Tsuzuki for doing such things?

They fell into an interesting silence, one close to being companionable... but Hisoka felt an awkwardness in it that was totally on his side only. Because it was a companionable silence _in a bed_ and it was shortly after a certain _erotic dream_ and there was no way he could sit here under the covers with Tsuzuki right beside him and not be one hundred percent aware of Tsuzuki's body warmth and his scent and... oh hell. He'd just had broken ribs healed and felt tired as hell because of it. Surely that should slow down his... his sexual interest? Agh, he was blushing just from thinking the words.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki had finally turned to him, and Hisoka was surprised at how close those amethyst eyes were to his own – only a few inches. He swallowed back a yelp.

"Uh, yeah?"

"You should get some sleep," Tsuzuki said seriously. "I'll stay awake and watch over you."

As stalker-ish as it could have sounded, it gave Hisoka a sense of security. It was strange how often he felt the urge to just blurt out his feelings these days, but he'd gotten used to repressing such things long before he'd even died, so he just nodded and slid down, trusting Tsuzuki to take care of him.

And though the heat of the fire called out to him several times, its blazing fingers never got a firm grip on his consciousness.

* * *

It was an odd thing, waking up and realizing that you owed your health and rest to someone who looked about to keel over.

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka was sitting up in a second and lowering Tsuzuki into the bed. "Idiot!" he snapped, pushing Tsuzuki down. "This wasn't what I meant – if you need to freaking sleep, then sleep!"

Tsuzuki just gave him that little half-repentant smile and shrugged. "I figured you needed more sleep than me, so..."

"We _both_ need sleep, idiot. Now it's _your_ turn. And don't worry about me; I can handle being awake for a while. Just sleep." He tucked the covers under Tsuzuki's chin and tried not to think about how warm the guy felt, and how much he felt the desire to slip in there with him.

"No practicing with that sword," Tsuzuki mumbled, and Hisoka just sighed.

"Fine." He'd practice his defensive skills, then. Or maybe he'd be sensible for once and just find something else to do?

Tsuzuki seemed to accept Hisoka's words, though, because he smiled again and twisted into a different position on his side in order to fall asleep.

"Sleep well," Hisoka murmured, and padded softly over to the kitchen. He was starving.

It made him think about Tsuzuki as he cooked – should he wake the man up? Yes, he decided. Tsuzuki shouldn't go without meals just because he was babysitting Hisoka. It made him feel guilty, thinking about everything Tsuzuki was giving up. Every day would be hard for him – sleeping, then watching over Hisoka as _he_ slept. He felt like he was stealing Tsuzuki's afterlife from him.

And what would they do after the month was up? It had already been two weeks since he and Tsuzuki had been given a month off from work. They'd already used up half of their time. What about the next half? Would this little dance continue for two full weeks? What would they do when it was time to return to work? This... curse was the word, right? This curse wouldn't simply go away because they'd trumped Muraki's little maneuver. It would only get worse. And when they returned to work, he would return to the nights of pain.

And what worried him more was that short span of time between falling asleep and having the dream. Only about an hour or so. That wasn't good.

How many times, he wondered, had Tsuzuki had to wake him from the nightmare?

He took out a pot and thoughtlessly pulled out all the ingredients for curry. He hadn't quite perfected the art of curry-making yet, but it was supposed to be healthy and hearty, whatever the hell the latter meant, and it gave people energy. Hisoka figured Tsuzuki could use all the energy he could get.

So Hisoka spent the next hours – it was the middle of the night, proof that Tsuzuki had gone too damn long without sleeping – puttering around the kitchen like a maid, studiously ignoring the ridiculous apron that Tsuzuki had stuffed into a corner of the pantry. If he paid too much attention to it, it would start looking lonely and bedraggled, or maybe just plain ridiculous, and he didn't want to do anything ridiculous like touch it or sniff it or, Lord forbid, wear it.

So it was over an hour later that Hisoka finally finished the curry. A careful taste-test proved the food to actually be quite edible, thank you very much, so he put it on a plate and put the plate on a tray and stuck a juice on there as well – Tsuzuki could beg for caffeine if he wanted, but Hisoka wasn't going to give it to him; Tsuzuki needed to be able to _sleep_, dammit – and headed to the bedroom.

But when Hisoka entered the bedroom, he simply had to stop and stare. Tsuzuki, in the darkness, was nothing more than a big lump underneath the covers, so he couldn't moon stupidly over the man's sleeping face – which he'd already done plenty of times. No, this was a completely different thing that caught his attention.

How very right it seemed to have Tsuzuki sleeping in his bed.

He almost screamed and ran out of the room. What the hell was wrong with him? Hadn't he _told_ himself to just drop it? Was he a masochist, or was he an idiot, just like Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki was his _partner_. Partner. Friend. Comrade. Person-who-he-shouldn't-kiss. But he couldn't stop the feeling from invading his senses; look, that stupid voice told him. See how he fits right there on that side of your bed. The thing had always been too large, it continued, but now it seems the perfect size, doesn't it? Doesn't the room finally feel complete?

Shut up, he told the stupid voice, and stormed forward. He carefully didn't look at Tsuzuki as he placed the tray on the nightstand. Instead he glared out the window at the moon. It was strange, sometimes, seeing things that existed on Earth in Meifu, as well. The moon, for instance, or those sakura trees. Funny; he'd always hated sakura trees. But for some reason, they didn't bother him so much anymore. Maybe it was because he constantly found Tsuzuki sleeping underneath them, his eyes closed in contentment. It reminded him of their beauty, their majesty. Their frailty, even. Because they were very, very much like Tsuzuki himself. Never dying, always blooming and blowing their petals everywhere, always beautiful, always desperately surviving. Always in danger of being destroyed, just like that. If trees had feelings, he could imagine sakura trees mirroring Tsuzuki's – constantly smiling while fighting a deep sorrow, as if their blossoms existed just to try to hide their misery.

Shit. He was head-over-heels, completely freaking screwed, one hundred percent in love. It was so obvious – he was waxing poetic, for God's sake.

"Screw it," he muttered, and turned to Tsuzuki. He was surprised to see eyes glittering up at him. "Uh..." He sighed mentally in relief, glad he hadn't said anything he'd been thinking out loud, before saying, "what are you doing awake?"

"I smelled food," Tsuzuki whispered, respecting, Hisoka thought, the silence of the room, the darkness that was penetrated only by the moon's light.

Hisoka huffed. "I made some curry and thought I'd bring some in for you. You must be starving." Tsuzuki sat up without a word, turning to the food. Hisoka instantly felt bad. "Ah, s-sorry," he stammered out, handing Tsuzuki the tray after he'd properly arranged himself on the bed. "I hadn't thought it all out properly. If you keep doing this, you won't be able to do anything, and you'll hardly have the time even to eat."

"It's fine," Tsuzuki said, pausing before beginning to eat and sending Hisoka a quick smile. "I don't have a problem with it."

Of course not. Because Tsuzuki would do anything for his friends. Ah. That thought hurt.

Hisoka scowled. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. Either Tsuzuki got angry – a rare enough event – and Hisoka felt guilty and upset, or Tsuzuki was kind to him – definitely common – and he felt pained by the idea that Tsuzuki saw him only as a friend. He couldn't freaking win.

"Don't worry, Hisoka. I'll be sure to take care of myself." Tsuzuki seemed to have picked up on his agitation.

Hisoka harrumphed. "Just finish it all, and don't forget to drink all the juice. I'm come back in a couple minutes to check. And don't fall asleep with it in your lap!"

"Aye-aye!"

Hisoka hid his grin as he stalked out of the room.

He grabbed a portion of the curry for himself just as he heard appreciative moans coming from the bedroom. He let out a breathy laugh and just bathed in the feel of Tsuzuki's presence in his apartment. Yes, he was hopelessly in love, and he'd admitted it to himself a long while ago. He would just take the moments of happiness as they came and not ask for anything more.

When he finished, he washed his dishes and put away the bowls and spoons he'd left out earlier. Then he made his way back into the bedroom.

Tsuzuki had fallen asleep with the dishes still in his lap.

With an aggravated sigh, he moved over to the bed and almost shook Tsuzuki awake, but then he caught a look at that face and he was just lost. He just sighed again and carefully removed the tray and dishes. Well, at least the man had finished off everything, including the juice.

Then he stuck the mound on the nightstand again and just... looked.

It was always painful, these moments when he got the chance to simply look at Tsuzuki when the man was unaware. He couldn't help the longing that rose up inside of him, the almost physical need to _touch_. Tsuzuki looked so much younger, so much more vulnerable, when he slept, that mouth slightly open, those almost imperceptible snores slipping through those lips. His hair always fell in interesting directions, sometimes to the point that it looked like a cat had licked it all night by the time the man woke up.

Hisoka imagined it and almost died from the pain, even as he made that breathy chuckle again. He clutched at his stomach, feeling like he was breaking apart.

He needed. He needed to touch, just once. Just a tiny brush of his fingers. If Tsuzuki woke up, he could just pretend to be irritated, to yell at Tsuzuki to slide back down into the covers. If he woke up...

Hisoka touched a lock of Tsuzuki's hair, holding his breath, almost afraid of what he was doing. Then, certain he was safe, he pushed it back, away from those kind eyes, away from the eyelashes that looked long in the moonlight. His chest felt heavy with the weight of his love, a burden that made it difficult to stand and carry the tray away. He felt oddly exhausted as he washed off Tsuzuki's dishes, but the feeling wasn't due to his lack of proper sleep, and he let the feeling go without analyzing it, almost afraid of what more he might learn.

* * *

Othello was a moron.

It was official; Hisoka hated Othello.

After all, what was with the 'put out the light, then put out the light' nonsense? Obviously Othello was referring to his plan to kill Desdemona, but really, the man was just stupid. Apparently free will thinking had yet to be invented. And why was he reading the thing, anyway? It was annoying, and parts of it were just boring enough to get him slipping almost into sleep. He had to find something else to do.

Dawn was breaking through, and he, the idiot who hadn't turned on any lights but the one he read by in deference to the fool in his bedroom, wouldn't have to fight the pull of darkness any longer. He yawned, the third time in as many minutes, and clapped the book closed. He winced at the sound and tiptoed over to Tsuzuki, but the man was still sleeping soundly. He'd slid down at some point during his sleep, thank goodness, and was splayed on his back, arms wide, mouth agape. Hisoka smiled.

Then he shook himself and went to make himself another bowl of cereal. At least he couldn't sleep while eating. Hopefully.

After that he basically wasted his day, dusting things off and listening to Tsuzuki's soft snores, rearranging things and listening to Tsuzuki toss and turn. He glared at the abstract painting and heard Tsuzuki mumble something incoherently.

Okay. This was bordering obsession.

On a whim, he slipped into a new pair of slacks and a shirt and slipped out the door, leaving a note for Tsuzuki as to where to find him. He wanted to follow up on those random musings he'd had – he was going over to the sakura trees.

* * *

He was happy to find himself the only one in the little field and took the chance to look around; he could easily find Tsuzuki's favorite resting spot, and he went there, looking at the trees. He couldn't help but associate them with that night, remembering their haunting beauty as Muraki grabbed him and forced him down, ripped off his robe and...

He shivered. But if he kept his eyes open, he could call different memories to mind, times when he and Tsuzuki stood in this field and spoke to one another, promising each other Muraki's defeat, and even recalling a time when he'd been sent to find Tsuzuki and had chanced upon the man as he looked up at the trees, a sorrow in his eyes that Hisoka hadn't then understood.

Thinking about Tsuzuki's pain always left Hisoka feeling helpless and weak. He wished, almost desperately, that he could go back in time, back to when Tsuzuki had been alive, and... and what? He always drew a blank. What could he, Hisoka, the emotionally challenged, possibly do to help Tsuzuki?

He sat down in Tsuzuki's favorite spot and just looked up at the sky. It was a peaceful enough scene. So peaceful he had trouble fighting sleep. He could understand why Tsuzuki came here. There was a calm sort of acceptance here, as if the trees were willing to accept your presence no matter who you were. He put a hand to the bark of one and let the sound of the wind and the feel of the petals on his skin soothe him.

He Felt Tsuzuki before he crested the hill.

"Hey," he called back when he heard Tsuzuki's footsteps crunching the grass. "You rested? Should you be up?"

"I'm fine," Tsuzuki answered, and wordlessly plopped down to watch the clouds with him.

"Aa. Hey, next time be more careful. You fell asleep with the tray on your lap and your neck twisted."

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that."

"Just take more care." Hisoka shuffled a bit and played with a blade of grass. He couldn't forget his own deviation from his personal rules. The phantom feel of Tsuzuki's silky hair still played on his fingers.

They sat there in silence again, and Hisoka just pulled up the blade of grass and began studiously splitting it. He felt that desire again, the desire to just rest against Tsuzuki's shoulder. But that would definitely be an intimate thing to do and therefore not too brilliant. He thought he sighed.

He finished splitting that blade of grass and plucked up another one. Tsuzuki watched him this time as he ripped along the veins of the thing, and he wondered if the grass could scream in pain. It made him feel bad, and he let the blade fall to the ground, even though it was too late and why the hell was he imagining the grass pulling their injured brethren down to try to treat him? Tsuzuki's random mind processes were infecting his brain.

He had just looked back up to the sky when Tsuzuki sighed. "Do I have to do it?" the man asked, and Hisoka jerked to him in surprise. With a tiny little smile, Tsuzuki reached out and flicked a lock of hair out of Hisoka's face.

He blushed tomato red.

Tsuzuki laughed right in his face, apparently delighted with his embarrassment. He managed a little glare at the man. "Ah, sorry, sorry," Tsuzuki said, waving his hands in an attempt to placate. "It's just that I'd thought it was so cute, and..." But 'cute' was a taboo adjective to Hisoka and Tsuzuki stopped.

"Cute?" Hisoka repeated, not sure whether his anger was fully justified or not.

"Yeah," Tsuzuki said carefully. "You know, like nice?" The word surprised him; Hisoka's thesaurus didn't stick 'cute' with 'nice.' "It made me really happy..."

Well fuck. That wasn't fair; Tsuzuki saying something made him happy automatically made that something okay. He was way over his head here; he still didn't understand this whole 'love' thing. Why had Serendipity been _right_ when explaining the finer details of love? Give up everything indeed.

He humphed.

Tsuzuki looked back up to the sky, seeming to understand Hisoka's grunt as a sign of forgiveness. "You know, for the longest time I gave up on being loved."

Hisoka stilled.

"I thought, 'how could a monster like me ever be loved by anybody?'" Tsuzuki gave him that chuckle that didn't have any humor in it. That sound always brought that helpless feeling rearing inside of Hisoka. "But then you brought me back from Touda's fire and I realized I'd been wrong."

"Of course," Hisoka said firmly, almost vehemently. "You aren't a monster."

Tsuzuki huffed out a small smile and pulled his knees up to his chest before crossing his arms around them and resting his head on top. "Yeah..."

"I mean it," Hisoka said, almost growling. He turned more fully to Tsuzuki and leaned his hands on the ground. It gave him a better position to glare at the man. "You aren't. Everyone here cares about you-"

"Even you?" Tsuzuki whispered.

"Of course!" Hisoka snapped, almost scared by the question. "I said you could live in my heart, didn't I?!"

Tsuzuki glanced over at him, took in his flushed face and furious scowl. "No matter what?" the man continued, and Hisoka felt that fear spike a bit more. Was this... Tsuzuki's reply?

He steeled himself for the pain and hissed out, "don't be stupid."

Tsuzuki let that sink in. Then his smile widened and he suddenly had Hisoka in his arms. "Thanks, 'Soka!"

What the hell?

Hisoka carefully returned the hug, albeit much more calmly, and tried to keep his guard up. Tsuzuki just Felt relieved more than anything, and whatever else he was feeling was lost behind that one strong surge of emotion. What was Tsuzuki doing? What was this all about?

Then Tsuzuki was pulling back and their eyes locked, bright violet on emerald, and then Tsuzuki leaned in and – on a shocked moan, Hisoka's lips were met with his.

It took about half a second for Hisoka to respond, and he did. Radically.

His back arched and another moan slipped past, echoing against Tsuzuki's lips. And then a heat rose in him, strong and intense, and before he understood the action he parted his lips, asking for something without understanding the question.

Tsuzuki gently pushed them to the ground, leaning over him, careful not to put his weight on his partner, and Hisoka was deadly aware of the feel of Tsuzuki's hair on his cheek, of the heat from Tsuzuki's body and the odd clash against the cool wind as it seeped between them, and _oh_ the hot, warm, almost spicy taste of Tsuzuki's mouth, of his _tongue_...

Hisoka wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki's neck and pulled him down, until that damn wind couldn't touch him anymore.

It was electric, like he'd been hooked up to ten thousand volts. It was hot, a volcano, a storm. It was a big, huge spark of white and bright yellow, a heated pain that went straight down to his groin.

But better, more... it was a release from a pain so large, so familiar, that it physically hurt. Like he'd been carrying a burden for days, weeks, months, a burden heavier than Atlas', and finally he could let the burden fall. He almost wept from the freedom, from the unloading of such a painful weight.

Then a blossom's petal fell on his cheek and the moment was wholly ruined.

He jerked, pushing Tsuzuki back. As soon as Tsuzuki was sitting up, Hisoka shoved away from him, panting, eyes wide, panic singing through his veins.

_Hands gripped, he couldn't get them free, terrified – what was this man going to do? Kill him, too? No, that eye... too malicious, the man was insane, he could Feel it–_

"Hisoka?"

"Sorry," he panted. Hell. Sakura trees... he remembered very vividly their mocking pink petals as they fell around him, Muraki's hands on him... he shuddered again.

Tsuzuki's emotions pulled him back from his memories. They weren't anything like Muraki's; instead they were regretful, hurt, disappointed, confused. He must have started thinking that Hisoka's reaction...

"It's not you," he said. "It's the trees."

Confusion took prominence for a few moments before a very quiet, "ah...!" sounded, and he trusted Tsuzuki to have figured out the basic reasons. "Sorry."

Hisoka just shook his head and looked back at Tsuzuki. Could it be real? Could this really be happening? All his doubts... had they been for nothing? "I don't mind."

And as if sensing his thoughts, Tsuzuki reached out and gently touched Hisoka's hand. Without thought Hisoka flipped it over and linked their fingers. It felt surreal, Tsuzuki's long fingers between his, the almost cool feel of Tsuzuki's palm.

"I've always been afraid," Tsuzuki murmured, his soft words seeming to fit seamlessly with the air around them.

"Me, too," Hisoka whispered, afraid that his own words wouldn't match quite so perfectly. Afraid his words, always so inadequate, would fall uselessly past his lips.

Tsuzuki squeezed his fingers. "I've always wondered if you'd..."

"Me, too," he repeated. "But I didn't... didn't want to lose your friendship, so I..." He studied their fingers, the way they linked together.

"I was afraid of that, too," Tsuzuki told him.

It made Hisoka look up. Tsuzuki's eyes were almost a sort of golden warmth despite their violet color, and his smile was radiant. It had Hisoka sucking in a sharp breath. "I've always worried," Hisoka said breathlessly, "if maybe someday I'd cross the line... I'm not good at things like this." He admitted it awkwardly, though he was certain Tsuzuki had always known it.

"I know. Neither am I," Tsuzuki told him. "But... I want to try?"

As if Tsuzuki had to shoot him those puppy eyes for him to respond the way he did. "I do, too."

It made Tsuzuki chuckle a bit, a happy chuckle not unlike that of a kid being given a rare compliment. "I... love you, Hisoka."

Hisoka opened his mouth to respond the words, but had a hard time spitting them out. He kept getting stuck on the first one, and the second seemed to carry so much weight... come on, he berated himself, you've been fighting _not_ to say them for weeks!

"You, too," he mumbled, glaring at the grass. Why couldn't he just simply say it?

But Tsuzuki laughed out loud anyway and hugged him again, pushing them back into the grass. "Thank you, Hisoka!"

"Baka. What are you thanking me for? It's just how I feel." But he didn't push the man away.

"I was so scared... maybe you'd meant something else when you touched my hair... maybe I'd read you wrong..."

"Idiot," he sighed. "You haven't read me wrong yet."

But instead of laughing, Tsuzuki just hugged him tighter. "I'm glad," the older man murmured. His voice was a bit... strained, but his emotions were definitely positive – happy, relieved, excited. The rebound of them off of Hisoka's own happiness made him almost giddy.

"Should we try the kissing part again at the apartment?" Hisoka offered, and it made Tsuzuki laugh.

"Later. You need to sleep."

Mother hen.

* * *

Hisoka was awakened a few hours later by a knock, his body curled on its side, Tsuzuki's warmth beside him.

Tsuzuki growled something and turned to him, his eyes having strayed toward the door. "You're awake?" he asked, even as Hisoka's eyes slitted open.

"Yeah," he grumped.

They both got out of the bed and moved toward the door. Tsuzuki was the one to open it this time, and smiled as the same two visitors greeted them. "Hi, Tatsumi, Watari!"

"Hiya!" Watari said cheerily. He leaned past Tsuzuki to extend the greeting to Hisoka, who was only awake enough to nod at him.

"Move, Watari," Tatsumi said, and Watari stuck his tongue out at the man. Hisoka touched two fingers to his forehead; he was feeling a headache coming on.

"Hisoka? Are you okay?"

He waved off Tsuzuki's concern. "Fine," he answered, and led the two guests into the kitchen again. "Tea?"

"No, thank you," Tatsumi answered. Watari waved off the offer, as well, causing 003 to tip off his shoulder and once again go zooming around in circles. Hisoka was reminded of that stupid little bird in the Harry Potter series – what was its name? Pig? Whatever. That name was right up there with '003,' in Hisoka's opinion.

"What are you guys doing back here?" Tsuzuki asked, sitting down in the same seat as before. Tatsumi and Watari did the same, leaving Hisoka with the same seat between Watari and Tsuzuki.

"Well, celebrate, boyo!" Watari said, clapping his hands together, no longer able, it seemed, to contain his excitement. "I've once again managed to solve all your problems!"

Hisoka thought about that with a little less enthusiasm, brought on mostly by past experience. "What?"

"I've figured it out, boyo!" Watari said proudly. "You remember, after all, I was _there_ when you and Tsuzuki came out of that fire! There's only one way that curse could only hit one of you and not both, and that's if you came into contact with something! And of course Muraki wouldn't leave it up to chance, so this is it!" Watari stuck a finger into the air. "You touched the metal of the building, didn't you, boyo?"

"Eh?" Hisoka thought back. "Of course – I had to push things out of my way to get to Tsuzuki. But Tsuzuki had touched the building before..."

"Yes, but not after having called out our dear Serpent friend. After that, only you touched the building. Even Tatsumi and I didn't. We only had to grab the two of you and pull you out, and we just hopped over to Tsuzuki."

Yeah. Remind him that he hadn't thought of it to begin with. He'd been in a full state of panic, and in the middle of it all had forgotten that he had that particular power.

"So because of that, I got cursed?" Hisoka scowled. "It sounds lame."

"Lame but effective," Watari pushed, a bright grin on his face. "So all we have to do is counteract the curse."

"And how do we do that?" Hisoka asked sarcastically.

Watari's owlet chose that moment to plop itself right in the middle of the table and hoot. Watari slipped his eyes from Hisoka's to clap for the little thing, and it returned to his shoulder. Huh. Annoying but well-trained. Hisoka wondered if he could make a metaphor between the thing and its owner without sounding downright cynical.

"Well," Tatsumi said, picking up the lost thread of the conversation, "that is where we hit a bit of a wall. We need to return to the scene."

Hisoka's heart just freaking stopped.

Tsuzuki carefully nudged him under the table. Hisoka met the man's eyes, Feeling Tsuzuki's own disturbed emotions.

"And since you're the one affected, Kurosaki, we need to have you with us."

Tsuzuki sat forward. "Tatsumi, you can't be serious! Hisoka's still recovering!"

"Tsuzuki, he'll never recover unless we do this," Tatsumi said, his voice still as calm and unflappable as ever.

"He's right," Hisoka said.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki hissed.

"He's right," he repeated. "We can't continue like this. At this point, all we're doing is waiting for Muraki to win."

"At this point?" Tatsumi repeated.

"Hisoka, we can handle it. You're still so weak," Tsuzuki started, but Hisoka glared at him. 'Weak' was a taboo adjective, too.

"I can handle it." He turned to Tatsumi and steeled himself. "We can go whenever you're ready."

Watari nodded, drowning out Tsuzuki's protests. "All right, boyo! Get packing! We're heading out in an hour, okay?"

Hisoka nodded. "We'll be there."

"What do you mean, 'at this point'?" Tatsumi asked.

"Tatsumi, it's gotten worse." Hisoka sent another glare Tsuzuki's way, but this time it seemed the older Shinigami was having nothing of it. "Muraki really _is_ in control in some way. Hisoka doesn't move or anything anymore; he's trapped in place, and he got injured again."

Tatsumi's eyes roamed over Hisoka. "Is this true, Kurosaki?"

Dammit. "Yes."

"How badly?" Watari asked, falling into serious-mode.

Hisoka shuffled around a bit in his seat, but he finally said, "a bruise and a couple broken ribs."

"From a dream?" Watari gasped.

Hisoka hunched into himself. Yeah. From a dream. Yuck it up.

"It's not a normal dream," Tsuzuki hissed. "Who gets hurt from a normal dream? You may wake up afraid, but that's it. This is different. And the fact that Muraki's able to change the occurrences... I think you're right, and it really is some sort of curse."

"But what kind of curse leaves the one cursed observable?" Tatsumi mused.

"That's it; now we absolutely have to go. Boyo, why didn't you mention this earlier?" Watari asked.

And _that_ got Hisoka's back up. Sure. Let's just complain to the stronger Shinigami – they'll take care of it. He, the pathetically weak one, would simply sit on the sidelines and cheer them on.

"Kurosaki, we all work as a team. Remember that." Tatsumi stood then and stared pointedly at Watari until he did the same. "We'll meet up with the two of you in the second meeting room in an hour. Be ready."

"Yes, sir," Hisoka murmured, eyes on the table. He felt shame hitting him on each side – work as a team? And who was he on this team? The third replacement for the catcher, maybe, or the one out in right field.

Tsuzuki walked them out.

When he returned, Hisoka was still sitting dumbly in his chair. "Hisoka... I'm sorry for telling them. But I thought-"

"It's fine."

Hisoka's voice said that even if _that_ was fine, something else certainly wasn't.

Tsuzuki knelt down next to him. "Hisoka? What's wrong?"

Hisoka looked down at him almost impassively. Things hadn't suddenly changed between them; Tsuzuki was still Tsuzuki, and he was still himself. Had he expected something... something tremendous... to happen to them?

...Maybe.

Hisoka bent down and pecked Tsuzuki on the lips, then blushed furiously and stood. "Let's get ready to go."

It seemed to take a moment for Tsuzuki to recover, but finally he said, "all right," and got up to fetch his things.

They were ready in forty minutes, thanks to Hisoka's careful observation, and met up with Tatsumi and Watari with a few minutes to spare.

"Good," Tatsumi said, apparently pleased with their preparedness. "We won't stop off anywhere; we're going straight to the old building. No breaks, no detours. Can you manage that, Kurosaki?"

Hisoka nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Then let's go!" Watari enthused, pumping a fist. Little 003 hooted in apparent agreement.


	4. Little Strokes Fell Great Oaks

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

Note: In the manga, Byakko states that Hisoka couldn't recognize him in human form because it was the first time Hisoka had gone to the Imaginary World. However, Kotaro and Kojiro had both been in their human forms when they arrived to open the gate and when they spoke to Kannuki. To settle this confusion, I just decided that it took a helluva lot more energy to keep the Shiki in human form in the human world and just went with that. Also, for the sake of Hisoka's sanity, I made him recognize Byakko. Don't bother asking me how, because even I don't know. I just thought Hisoka had been mentally traumatized enough.

Enjoy!

* * *

That's What Love Is For

Chapter Four

Little Strokes Fell Great Oaks

* * *

It didn't take them long to materialize on Earth, and even less for them to make their way to Muraki's old hide-out. The trek to the old laboratory made ice skitter up and down Hisoka's spine. Every step was a memory, one that brought a sense of dread that wanted to drag his feet, as if he were stuck in a mire so thick it was difficult to move.

Tsuzuki seemed almost curious, the chit. He hadn't had to walk this path like Hisoka and Tatsumi and Watari had. There were no painful memories, no remembered emotions, that bogged him down. Instead it was like he was going to a campsite he'd once heard about, one he'd never gone to before but had listened to stories of.

The walk was more painful for Hisoka, though of course he didn't show it. The ground became an object of fascination, the buildings artworks to be studied. He couldn't believe the... mundaneness of the world around him. It looked like any other town, any other residential area. They were passing through the last of the houses, moving toward a more uninhabited area. Hisoka remembered seeing it before, hardly noticing how the houses seemed to disappear from around him. He'd been too concerned with what was ahead.

Now he could appreciate it a bit more, and be thankful for it more. The people in these houses hadn't been touched by the fire Tsuzuki had called upon. None of them had suffered.

But Hisoka had.

And then they all stopped as one. The feelings of dread that dragged at the pit of Hisoka's stomach morphed to further solidity, moving from past horrors to include the present.

"That looks like a fire," Watari breathed.

"Move," Tatsumi barked.

They ran then, Hisoka forcing himself faster. He gained a short lead on the others as he moved and the dread in his gut spread to his chest. He recognized the area. He knew exactly where that fire was.

The smoke was getting thicker the further he ran, clogging his throat and dulling his already overworked senses. They'd entered what was close to an empty space, building interspersed along the street but everything in the area abandoned. They looked like empty warehouses from an old sitcom, but they still had signs hanging from them, proclaiming a comic books store and a barbershop. The street was marked with potholes. He continued on past these old stores, even though his legs didn't feel like they wanted to support him for much longer, but when they finally spun past the last turn, it was obvious that it was too late. The lab building burned orange, flames licking up the white walls.

"Shit!" Watari cursed. Hisoka heard the others gaining up, each turning around the corner. Instinctively his ears caught the sound of Tsuzuki catching up.

"Tenku, son of Souryuu! I, Asato Tsuzuki, call upon you! Quench these flames!" Tsuzuki placed his hand before him, and out came the temple that had once housed Touda. It raced forward to encompass Muraki's lab even as Tsuzuki came to a halt beside Hisoka.

"Is it too late?" Watari asked, his voice tight.

Hisoka just watched, wondering whether he should feel frustrated, angry, or disappointed. Somehow he wasn't surprised by this; Muraki was always just one step ahead.

"This is bad," Tatsumi murmured, watching as Tenku pushed the flames back from the small part of the roof that hadn't collapsed. "If the curse is wiped away, either by the water or the flames, our chances of being able to get rid of this curse are drastically cut."

Hisoka knew that. But still he felt an odd sense of detachment. It was a good thing, he decided, that he hadn't quite let his hope of surviving take hold of him. It just hurt, very much, to think that he might leave Tsuzuki, after all.

He flinched then – his scars were burning.

"He's close!" he shouted, trying to be heard above Tenku's raging waters. Tsuzuki turned to him, eyes wide.

"What?" Tsuzuki looked around wildly.

"I knew you'd come."

All four swiveled around. Muraki stood behind them, his white coat billowing in the wind created by Tenku's feverish work. That smirk of his was wide and exultant.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that, little Shini's. I burned the curse to ash. Honestly, I should have done it months ago. I should have known you wouldn't just do as I said, my little marionette. You always did try to break free of your strings."

Muraki's eyes were on Hisoka's. He gritted his teeth in fury and fisted his hands against the pain searing his skin. "Muraki," he hissed. "Just what are you planning?!"

"My little doll," he sneered. "How about you return to me?" The man had the audacity to hold his hand out. "Return to me, and I can make the dreams stop."

Hisoka tensed. "_You_ gave them to me to begin with!"

The smirk only widened. "I know."

"Muraki! This time you will pay for all you've done!" Tatsumi leaped in front of Hisoka, his hands already twisting through the air. Hisoka's shadow lifted from the ground and swirled into a mass of blackness. Several pieces shot off to attack Muraki, surrounding him.

_Sleep_.

Hisoka staggered and clutched his head. Shit. The voice reverberated in his mind, deep and ominous and chilling. He knew Muraki's voice, knew it instinctively, as easily as a heart knew fear. His heart thumped loudly just once, and suddenly he felt a heaviness in his limbs that hadn't been there before.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki shouted, the first to notice.

Watari grabbed him and held him up. "Boyo, what's wrong?!"

Muraki jumped away just as Tatsumi's attack smashed into the ground. The shadows bounced right back up, though, and proceeded to chase Muraki around the small field that surrounded the smoking building.

"Hold on, Tatsumi, Hisoka! I'm almost done here!" Tsuzuki called.

_Sleep_.

"Aahh..." Hisoka leaned into Watari's arms. Everything was fuzzy and spinning, but if he closed his eyes, he was certain he'd fall asleep.

Damn it all. It was a spell. But why did it seem as if the words were in his very skull?

Muraki pulled up his own hand, his first two fingers up. A bright white light shone, momentarily blinding Hisoka, and then a familiar white dragon lunged for Tatsumi's head. Tatsumi had to jump back to avoid the dragon's teeth.

_Sleep._

"Stop!" he shouted, grabbing his head with both hands and shaking it wildly. He wouldn't sleep. He had to stay awake; he'd be less than useless unconscious, and they were all going through this for him!

"Boyo!"

Shadows swirled around Tatsumi, blocking him from the dragon's jaws. And then Tsuzuki was there, too, and Tenku was retreating. "Byakko!" Tsuzuki shouted, and Muraki smiled.

"I suppose this is good-bye for now, my little puppet." Muraki gave Hisoka a wide grin. "I will return for you shortly."

Hisoka whipped his head up in carnal rage. "Go to-!"

_Sleep_.

"Aah!" Hisoka gulped in a breath and staggered back. Watari lost his grip on Hisoka's shoulders and the boy just fell to the ground, no longer able to keep his feet underneath him.

"Hisoka!"

"Boyo!"

"Kurosaki!"

He just groaned and felt his eyelids fall shut without his permission, and his hands fell to his sides.

"No – Hisoka, don't sleep! Watari, keep him awake!"

No, he wouldn't fall asleep. Everyone was trying so hard to help him. He wouldn't be any more useless than he was already; he wouldn't fall asleep; everyone would be worried about him...

* * *

"Boyo!" Tsuzuki glanced back from the battle against Muraki's pet dragon, only to see Watari shaking Hisoka's prone form like a rag doll.

"Don't let him sleep!" he shouted again. "No matter what, he can't sleep!"

Watari turned to him. "But he's not waking up, and I'm shaking him as hard as I can!"

"Tsuzuki, go," Tatsumi ordered. "Byakko and I can handle this."

Tsuzuki hesitated, but in the end he nodded and raced over to Hisoka. His face was pale, even paler than it usually was these days. He knelt down and lifted Hisoka into his arms. Watari quickly scooted back. "Hisoka, can you hear me? Hisoka!" And despite himself, he shook the boy. "Hisoka, you have to wake up!"

Hisoka flopped uselessly in his arms, and panic seized his chest still. But just as his emotions spiked, he felt a small, sudden twitch from the boy in his arms and watched as those eyes fluttered as if fighting off a desperate weight. "Ts... Tsuzuki..."

He almost gasped in relief. "That's it. That's it, Hisoka. Come back to me."

Hisoka's eyes fluttered again, though they didn't open. Tsuzuki distinctly heard Hisoka groan, and he clutched Hisoka closer. "Come on, Hisoka. Wake up. Come on."

There was a roar then from behind, a squealing, pained cry that signaled the dragon's defeat. Gathering Hisoka more carefully in his arms, Tsuzuki stood. "We have to find somewhere to rest, at least for now."

Tatsumi nodded. "Understood. Watari, you stay here. See if you can find anything usable from those remains. Byakko should stay to protect you."

"Gotcha."

"Tsuzuki, you and I will go with Kurosaki to a hotel. We need to plan our next move."

Tsuzuki nodded, his gaze grim. "I agree."

* * *

Hisoka could hear Tsuzuki's voice, a constant buzzing in his ears. He could Feel Tsuzuki's fear and anguish, a mixture so potent it stole his breath. He heard a repetitive humming, a repeating of words... _don't fall asleep_, he heard, and understood. He was causing trouble again.

"Sorry," he whispered, and there was a break in Tsuzuki's voice before a hot rush of relief surged through Hisoka's mind.

"Hisoka! It's all right; we're all okay. Watari's checking the remains of the laboratory now. We should know whether there's anything usable in a few hours."

Hisoka forced his eyes to open, even as his chest felt heavy with the weight of sleep. "What did he do?" he whispered. He tried to think back, but all he could remember was the order to sleep and the overpowering urge to do so.

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."

His eyes finally focused enough for him to see that he was staring at Tsuzuki's chest. He blushed deeply and turned his head to the other side. Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were jogging down a sidewalk, obviously keeping themselves hidden from mortals.

"He told me to sleep," Hisoka sighed. His eyes were too heavy to keep open. "I'm so sleepy..."

"Don't go to sleep," Tsuzuki ordered, and the words seemed familiar. He wondered how many times Tsuzuki had said them since he'd fallen. "We're close to the hotel – wait until we're there. I may not be able to wake you up like this."

Hisoka frowned. It was humiliating, but... "Tatsumi?"

"I..." Tsuzuki hesitated. "I don't know if he _can_, Hisoka. Watari wasn't able to wake you up, no matter how hard he tried."

Watari couldn't wake him?

"Great," he muttered, and forced his eyes open again. "Sorry for the trouble." His words were mumbled.

"Don't worry about it, Kurosaki," Tatsumi told him, his first words since Hisoka had become aware. "It's more important that you try to keep up as much of your strength as you can. All right?"

Hisoka frowned. That sounded a bit... suspicious. "All right," he said finally, unable to work it out in his head. Completely against his will, his eyes shut closed once more.

"Hisoka, stay with me," Tsuzuki called. "Stay awake."

"Uhmm," Hisoka managed, and curled into Tsuzuki's chest. "Warm..."

He Felt Tsuzuki's embarrassed pleasure at his words and smiled softly. He spent the time listening to the pounding of Tsuzuki's feet on the sidewalk and the thrumming of the man's heartbeat beneath his ear. Every once in a while Tsuzuki would ask him a question, but he only answered with a short, "Still awake," and really that was all Tsuzuki wanted.

Hisoka could tell when they arrived back at the hotel; the air was suddenly cold, and he shuddered into Tsuzuki's chest.

"Sorry, Hisoka. We'll be in the room soon, okay? We're almost there."

He only hummed.

Tatsumi was the one to open the door leading to their room, and Tatsumi was the one to snap the covers down. Tsuzuki placed Hisoka on the bed as if he were porcelain. "Hisoka, can you look at me?"

_Damn_ it; he was being useless again. Hisoka struggled to open his eyes and barely managed to turn his head to Tsuzuki.

"Hisoka." Tsuzuki leaned over, placing his weight on the bed and giving Hisoka a full view of the man's face and chest. "Hisoka, it's important that you stay awake. Okay?"

"'Cause Tatsumi's here," Hisoka sighed, too tired to make himself any louder. His eyes shuttered closed again. "And I don't want him to see."

Tsuzuki was quiet for a moment. Distantly Hisoka became aware of Tsuzuki's emotions – concern, surprise, warmth and sadness. He knew he had the ability to piece together what it all meant, but he just couldn't find the energy to care at that moment. "That's right, Hisoka. You don't want anyone to see."

"'T's okay if it's you," he whispered.

Tsuzuki gripped Hisoka's hand tightly, even as the man's emotions swirled even more. "Hisoka, you can't fall asleep."

"I know; it's weak."

"No, that's not what I meant." Hisoka was pulled from the edge of unconsciousness but the onslaught of Tsuzuki's rising panic. "You can't go to sleep – keeping Byakko out isn't a big deal, and Tenku wasn't hard to bring out, either, but when Watari returns, I'm going to be tired. I – I don't know that I'll be aware enough to..."

Hisoka let his thoughts drift slowly as he considered this. The largest part of him was less than interested, and it was telling him to just go to sleep. It would hurt later, but who cared? He was so damn _tired_. But then he heard the more rational part of his mind dissect what was happening – the fact that he was so damn tired because Muraki had used a spell on him, and the fact that he wouldn't get enough rest for the sleep to matter. Muraki could only plan to hurt Hisoka when he entered the dream again, and he wasn't certain he'd be able to deal with it too well.

He _had_ to get up.

"Okay," he sighed, breaking into the fear that was rising in Tsuzuki's mind. "Okay. I get it." He struggled to sit up. Tsuzuki quickly moved to help, but Hisoka waved him off. He needed to be able to focus on getting himself up. He hadn't known his lethargy could be worse than what he'd gone through before Tsuzuki had set up residence in Hisoka's home.

"Kurosaki. How long do you think you can remain conscious?"

Hisoka turned rather blearily to Tatsumi. "I shouldn't be awake right now," he said, but for some reason he wasn't able to use his full volume. As if he couldn't find the energy even for _that_. "I don't think I would be, if Tsuzuki hadn't kept talking to me."

Tsuzuki's fear rose a bit at that.

Hisoka needed to be standing. If he kept lying down, then there was no way he was going to remain awake. "Muraki wants me to return to the dream. He must want to use up the last of my strength – he doesn't want me to stop existing – just _enough_. If I'm weak enough, he believes Saki's soul will be able to defeat mine."

Tatsumi moved to the side of the window, his gaze peering stolidly outward. Shadows danced at his feet. "Without the ability to remove the curse, all we can do is bide our time. If he wants you alive, he will do what he can to get you before you disappear. Worse to worst, we will catch him then and make him tell us how to reverse whatever curse he placed on you."

"Would that work?" Tsuzuki murmured. "He doesn't _need_ Hisoka, I'm sure. He might not come at all. And if he did, we'd have to make sure he was not only stopped but caught. And then, if we did catch him, we'd have to be able to get him to tell us, and the more desperate we are, the more he'll withhold."

"That's a good amount of if's," Hisoka agreed, carefully testing his feet before walking over to the television stand. He rested heavily against it and bowed his head. If sleepiness was a weight, he would be crushed by now. He panted slightly in the effort to maintain himself.

Tsuzuki came to stand next to him, his worry falling beneath his barrier until all Hisoka could feel from him was a warm, steady strength and encouragement. He sighed in gratitude.

"Yes, Kurosaki, it is. And it's far too dependent on far too many variables for my taste. Which means we need Watari to come through for us."

And as if on cue, the door slammed open. "Did someone call my name? I, the great Watari, have come to unburden you all of your misery!"

Behind Watari immediately bounded Byakko, his long hair flashing out behind him. "Tsuzuki!" And in an instant the older Shinigami had been glomped from behind. Byakko turned to Hisoka, looking ready to jump him, too, but Tsuzuki grabbed the Shikigami and pulled him back.

"Tatsumi, you might be interested to see this," Watari said, waving something in his hand. Tatsumi strode across the hotel room and ducked his head to listen to what Watari said. Byakko, meanwhile, tugged and pulled against the hand on the cloth at the nape of his neck, trying to free himself so he could get to Hisoka. The teenage target was barely aware of the eminent danger, struggling to keep his eyesight focused.

"Byakko, calm down for a minute. Hisoka isn't feeling well."

Byakko blinked up to Tsuzuki in confusion. "Of course he isn't," he said plainly. "He's fading."

Tsuzuki's grip slackened as Byakko's words hit him. "Fading? He – he should be getting better."

Byakko's slitted eyes turned to Hisoka. "He is, I guess." Free of Tsuzuki's grip, the cat-man lunged and caught Hisoka up in a crushing hug. Hisoka huffed out a breath and glared back at his attacker.

"Let go of me, dammit."

"Little kid!" Byakko shouted, but he wasn't being derogatory so much as attempting to use a nickname. Hisoka's glare darkened still further at the words. "You're so weak! I can almost see through you!" And the Shikigami pulled Hisoka off his feet and swung him back and forth.

"Get – off-!" Hisoka pushed against Byakko's chest as best he could, but it was useless.

Byakko looked down at him, serious for a moment, and let his grin slip into a warning glance. "Don't let yourself fall," the immortal ordered, "unless you want to give Touda another chance."

Hisoka's breath gushed out of him again, this time in shock.

"Great! Glad you understand!" And that ridiculous grin was back, and Hisoka was being twirled around again. His head pounded in dizziness.

"Byakko! Let go of Hisoka now!"

Tsuzuki's fury, the tone rarely used on his Shikigami, made Byakko finally put Hisoka on the ground. Surprised by the sudden return of land, Hisoka stumbled, once again catching himself on the TV stand. His body trembled slightly with strain.

"Tsuzuki," Tatsumi called then, forcing Tsuzuki's focus away from Hisoka's troubles. "Come here for a moment."

Tsuzuki sent Hisoka another glance before doing as told. "What is it, Tatsumi?"

Hisoka knew damn well that they were all discussing something that had to do with him, and he was absolutely pissed that they were leaving him out of it. But trying to get away from the stand, let alone make it to the other side of the room, was proving to be rather impossible. He glared at the stand, wishing he had the strength to go on a short destructive tangent. As if he'd actually follow through with the impulse, anyway.

Hell, at this point, maybe he would.

"I – I don't know," Hisoka heart Tsuzuki stutter, and turned his head to it. The world swam.

He wasn't aware he was falling until Byakko caught him, gently cupping his head in one hand and curling the other around Hisoka's waist. A tight yelp of fear told Hisoka his mishap had not gone unnoticed by the other Shinigami in the building, and before he could regain his balance he was surrounded.

"Everyone, give him space," Tatsumi ordered, and Hisoka quickly found himself with only Byakko and Tatsumi near him. His eyes sought out Tsuzuki, waiting by the bed, easily accessible. Only then did Hisoka let himself close his eyes and try to calm the swerving motion of the world around him.

"I'm all right," he managed after another moment.

"Somehow, Kurosaki, I doubt it."

Hisoka threw the man an annoyed stare.

"I need you to concentrate on something for a minute, Kurosaki. Can you do that?" Tatsumi looked like he was seriously considering Hisoka as a vegetable.

"Of course I can," he snapped, and he pushed himself away from Byakko's comfortable arms. His eyes flicked back over to Tsuzuki, to the man's obvious distress, and turned back to Tatsumi. "What is it?"

Tatsumi nodded over toward Watari, who came over and placed something small and white in Tatsumi's hand. Then he moved back, once again giving Hisoka the space to breathe. Byakko, no longer helping Hisoka, scooted back, as well, toward where Tsuzuki sat. Hisoka didn't miss the careful glance Byakko sent the older Shinigami.

Nor did he miss the thrumming feel of worry and hope that shimmered along Tsuzuki's very skin.

"Kurosaki, do you Feel anything from this?"

Hisoka focused on the little shard in Tsuzuki's hand. He recognized it as a piece of metal, curled from heat and white. Laboratory white. From the inside of Muraki's lab? Hisoka bit his lip, knowing full well that touching the thing and concentrating on its Feel would make him even sleepier, even more vulnerable and weak. But he also knew that Tsuzuki and Tatsumi wouldn't ask him to check if they didn't absolutely need to know, for whatever reason.

Besides... this could hold the answer to ending the dreams.

Hisoka raised his hand and touched the small piece of metal, opening his mind to it. Instantly he flinched and cried out, and at once Byakko was pulling him back. As soon as the contact was severed between him and the metal, Tatsumi closed a fist over it. "Kurosaki?"

He gulped air into his lungs, even as he fought to understand the harsh sting of thoughts and feelings and – and words. They clumped together into one large bundle of thoughts, harsh and brutal. Hope, anger – lots and lots of anger – and determination. And madness. He shuddered; that shard of metal positively _reeked_ of Muraki's madness.

But beneath that had been something else – words, thoughts, colors. He struggled to put it together, but they fell apart whenever he tried. He'd definitely seen the color red, and he'd heard words – ovei poQo Boc.

He had to Feel more.

"I'm fine," he assured everyone. The anxiety everyone was feeling was only oppressing him, strangling his senses and making it difficult to deal with the lethargy that crawled through his mind. "I said I'm fine. Calm down."

Tsuzuki was the first to clamp down on his emotions, understanding quickest just what Hisoka needed. Tatsumi was only a short second after him, and finally Watari calmed a bit, though not much. The faint, mystical buzz from Byakko could never be fully wiped away, but at least now Hisoka didn't have to contend with the others' high emotions, as well.

"I need to Feel that again," he said quietly.

Tsuzuki immediately began to object, but Byakko stopped him short with a quick shake of his head. Hisoka leaned forward, toward Tatsumi's closed hand, and waited impatiently for the man to unclench his fingers, making it once again possible for Hisoka to reach for the small piece of metal.

This time he didn't flinch away from the Feel of Muraki's insanity, nor did he flinch away when, after digging deeper, he Felt the small stain of Tsuzuki's despair and desperation. Instead he delved into the sparks of color and heat and pain, the fury of a man who'd been defeated. And slowly he could Feel something he recognized: the ice-hot clutch of a false fire.

"Ti Quc," Hisoka said finally. "That's the word that repeats over and over on the outer circle." He thought back, back to the days when Chief Konoe had trained him in the defensive arts. "It's Ancient Greek, I think. Nightmare."

"And how does he control it, Kurosaki?" Tatsumi pressed.

Hisoka looked deeper, fighting as much as he could, relaying as much information as he found. "The outer circle housed five others, and each of those held two circles within. The outer edge says Ti Quc, the inner 'Ev Qia Qetoc.' It normally just means to reside in the mind, but 'Qayuc' is written in there, as well – puppet." He furrowed his brow. "It's a miracle the spell didn't backfire, or mess up more than just the target. In the middle the word 'Qeoc' is written over and over again, even more often than Ti Quc."

"Qeoc?" Tsuzuki asked, the first word he'd spoken since Hisoka had started his description.

"It means fear."

Tsuzuki flinched.

"The words are all random, none of them stringing together into the normal string usually necessary. Muraki was obviously relying on the language and the form to take care of everything for him, since he didn't have the time or perhaps awareness to form cohesive sentences."

"What do you mean?" Watari asked. "No awareness?"

"It Feels like he's lost a lot of blood," Hisoka admitted. "He's angry, surprised, but a little proud. I can only guess that Tsuzuki injured him."

And Hisoka was proud of that, too.

"I think I stabbed him," Tsuzuki said, "but I don't remember."

"In any case, he wrote with his own blood, sealing the curse as one he would have dominion over. Over the quick spread, he wrote ovei poQo Boc. It means terrified by dreams, and it was written in huge letters. It was the source of the curse – the reason why I see my greatest fear in my dream. It acted as the tie, I suppose, coalescing the ideas Muraki had tried to create."

"Last minute and choppy," Watari said with a frown as Hisoka broke off contact with the piece of metal for the second time. He practically fell back onto the floor, but he managed to retain his balance long enough to snatch at the stand again. His eyes slid to slits. "I don't know how easy it'll be to get this curse reversed, boyo, but I can tell you I'll do it. No matter what."

"We need to get back to Meifu," Tsuzuki said quietly. He turned to Byakko. "Can you...?"

"Of course!" And Byakko bounced over to Hisoka's side. Without a word the Shikigami flung Hisoka into his arms, quick but kind in his movements. It said something about Hisoka's level of exhaustion that he only humphed in annoyance. "No sleeping before the kitty, little kid. Got it?"

Hisoka opened a bleary eye to glare tiredly at the cat-man. He didn't bother to respond.

"I agree with Tsuzuki. We need to get back where we can be more certain of everyone's safety. Watari, I expect you to make this your first and full priority." Tatsumi stood beside Byakko as his tail flicked back and forth.

"Of course," Watari snorted, immediately pumping his fist into the air. "You have _me_ working on this, after all – I will solve this enigma in no time!"

"Good."

"Thank you, Watari." Tsuzuki clasped Watari's hands in his before moving over to Hisoka, hovering carefully over the boy. "All right, Byakko. It's time to go."

"Aren't you getting tired?" Byakko asked. "Do you want me to head out?"

But Tsuzuki shook his head. "I'm feeling a bit tired. If I fall asleep, I'll need you to wake me up. Otherwise, I won't be able to help Hisoka."

"Yeah, it'd be bad if he fell asleep at this point," Byakko agreed, his tail lowering slightly as he thought.

"We're leaving, you two," Tatsumi called dryly. Tsuzuki yelped and ran forward then, Byakko romping carefully after him.

"Wait – wait, Tatsumi! _Meanie!_"

* * *

Hisoka did his absolute best to not fall into the dark oblivion of sleep. Logically he knew damn well that he wouldn't be getting any rest. Sleep would only last for a few minutes before the nightmare began, before the fire returned and the Dream-Tsuzuki began torturing him. And if he fell into that dream again, he most likely would not be waking up.

But all the arguments didn't seem to matter – only the fact that he was sleepy, ridiculously sleepy, and wanted nothing more than to rest.

Tsuzuki wasn't the one carrying him – no, this Feel was too damned noisy, too ethereal to be human. It had to be Byakko, the annoying imp, who was traipsing him around in his arms. Hisoka wasn't happy about that. He never really got along with Byakko – or, more, they got along, but Byakko annoyed the shit out of him, constantly jumping around and landing him on the ground in some way. He didn't want someone carrying him around – it left him far too vulnerable. The only one he trusted in that way was Tsuzuki.

But Tsuzuki wasn't far away. He Felt the transition from the mortal world to Meifu, with its very air more tranquil and still than the ever-changing mortal world. He felt Byakko lightly moving, his arms bunching as they kept the stress of movement from Hisoka's body. Hisoka's head bobbed lightly against Byakko's chest.

Tsuzuki was in front of Byakko, to his left, his emotions ranging from relieved to tired to hopeful to wary. Each was picked at lightly, then clothed over in an effort to conceal them from Hisoka – not to hide, but to help.

Hisoka was still so damn tired from the spell Muraki had placed on him somehow – most likely Watari would find out, and would come to a solution, now that they all had something to go on. He was glad for that, and proud that he'd been able to do something despite the state he was in. He'd managed to take care of himself, at least a little. He'd been useful.

Now all he had to do was stay awake for the unknown hours it would take for Watari to figure out just what the hell Muraki had done.

"The – GuShoShin – he and Watari should both work together on this, shouldn't they?" Though Hisoka felt bad saying he wanted both to work non-stop for his sake and thus neglect their other duties, he knew that the two working as one would most likely get a result much faster than if Watari did it alone.

"I'm sure Tatsumi already thought of that," Tsuzuki told him, and Hisoka jumped a bit at the words. It was only then that Hisoka focused on more than just Byakko and Tsuzuki, and with a vague sort of horror, he realized that he had completely forgotten about Tatsumi, and hadn't even bothered to notice that the secretary was no longer with them.

He struggled desperately not to close his eyes and lull in Byakko's arms.

"Hisoka? Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. Then, "thank you, Byakko."

"No problem, kid! Anytime." And with no more than that, Byakko began talking about... Hisoka blinked dumbly. He didn't even bother to interpret the words Byakko was spewing forth. It was enough that it wasn't completely silent, that he knew he was supposed to _pretend_ to be listening, and therefore made an effort to grunt at what may or may not have been appropriate times. Tsuzuki, seeming to perhaps catch on after a few minutes, entered the monologue and made it into a conversation, one in which Tsuzuki would randomly ask Hisoka a question, forcing him to engage his mind long enough to respond.

That was how they made it to Hisoka's apartment, and that was how Tsuzuki managed to get Hisoka propped up in one of his dining chairs. Only then did Tsuzuki have Byakko leave the room, warning the Shikigami not to stray far. He needn't have worried; Byakko quickly spied the _Othello_ book draped on the floor and quickly pounced on it, his sharp nails biting into the binding.

Hisoka put his head down on the table.

"Hisoka, you can't sleep. I know you want to, but you absolutely can't. I'm – I'm tired, Hisoka. I can't..."

Tsuzuki's hesitation momentarily cut through the clouds of lethargy, and Hisoka rolled his eyes toward Tsuzuki. "Do _you_ wanna sleep?" he asked, and tried ineffectually to stifle a yawn.

"No. If you're up, I'm up."

"That's dumb," Hisoka said baldly. "We switched from that whole 'sleep at the same time' thing because of how dangerous my dreams became. If both of us is awake when we aren't on a mission, it's only because we're stupid. Now get a couple of hours' sleep."

"Hisoka, I can't leave you alone right now."

"I'm not alone; I have your annoying albino cat for company."

"Hey! I'm not an albino!"

"Whatever, snow leopard," Hisoka muttered, knowing full well Byakko could hear him. "Go to sleep, Tsuzuki. Your pest of a pet can wake me up when I start falling asleep."

"Hey! Keep it up and I'll find a more effective way to wake you up."

"No, you won't," Tsuzuki ordered, but he sighed in defeat. "Please, Hisoka, just be careful."

"I won't do anything more dangerous than picking on Byakko," he managed around another yawn. He pulled his head up through sheer force of will.

"Like picking on a Shikigami isn't dangerous," Tsuzuki muttered darkly, but then he brightened. "That's all right, though, because Byakko knows some good insults, too. Why don't you trade some? Learn from each other?"

"Tsuzuki, he's a giant cat." Hisoka smirked.

Tsuzuki just shook his head and entered the bedroom, giving Byakko a warning look as the cat man left the room.

He needn't have worried about that, either; Byakko and Hisoka got along well enough to trade insults with each other, after all.

"How you doing, kiddo?" Byakko immediately rushed to the refrigerator, opening it and frantically searching the shelves. On a yell of triumph, he pulled out the milk, his earlier question apparently forgotten. "Yay!"

"Don't drink all of it, you glutton," Hisoka ordered, glaring sullenly from his point at the table. He could easily see resemblances of Tsuzuki in Byakko, his eagerness and chipperness and the way he was easily pleased. Especially by sweet foods.

Byakko couldn't respond to Hisoka's warning, since he was already chugging the drink down.

The day was gone by now, though Hisoka couldn't say just how much time had passed, and the sun was making his exit off the stage. How many days had passed since the nightmares had gotten worse? Just one? Almost two? He couldn't quite recall. The fear and worry and desperation was making everything fade into a blur. His mind could only remember pieces – the fear of being trapped in place, the pain in his ribs, the terror in Tsuzuki's chest.

But at least he could also remember the time with Tsuzuki under the sakura trees, the feel of Tsuzuki's lips on his. He blushed slightly at the memory. Yes, something good had come from all this. If only he could feel as if their relationship had actually _changed_ in some way... if only he could be absolutely certain that the two of them were... what? A... couple? He blushed again at that.

"Hey!" Byakko clunked him on the head with one fist. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes," Hisoka hissed, pulling up his gaze to spear the Shikigami was a harsh glare. "Why the hell did you hit me?"

"Because it'd wake you up," the bastard explained happily.

Hisoka bristled, wanting to yell at the damn cat but not wanting to wake Tsuzuki up. The cat man took the chance to whisk himself away to dig once more through Hisoka's fridge, his tail lightly whapping Hisoka in the face.

Hisoka grabbed his tail.

Immediately the man froze, his tail's fur puffing in indignation.

"Don't eat all my damn food," Hisoka snarled. "And don't drink all my milk. And _don't_ hit me!"

Only when Byakko nodded did Hisoka release his hostage, and Byakko curled his tail in his arms and blew on it softly.

"Ridiculous," Hisoka muttered, and task accomplished, dropped his head once more on his arms. He had to stay awake, but he was so damn tired... he huffed a short breath. He should be used to exhaustion by now. He'd dealt with it for months.

He couldn't believe it was almost over. The resolution seemed so simple... so ridiculously easy. Nothing was ever easy with Muraki.

What... what was going to happen, now that the answer was within reach?

Hisoka's head snapped up at the sound of a carton clenching in on itself and jumped to his feet. It was too late, of course; the bastard Shikigami had just finished off the last of the milk. "Dammit, you stupid cat! I _told_ you not to drink all of the milk! I use that to cook! Now how am I supposed to make something for Tsuzuki?"

Byakko turned to him there, ears perking. Hisoka flushed.

"I – look, just because you're settling Tsuzuki's paranoia – don't give me that look, of course I know that's why you're here – it doesn't mean you get to eat everything I-"

He stumbled back. Belatedly he realized just how fast he'd stood, just how fast the world was spinning. His eyes blinked stupidly, trying to make sense of the colors and Feelings. Automatically his feet tried to catch him as he lost his balance, but they got tangled in the chair and he fell back. His legs hit the edge of the chair and pushed him further, until his weight finally shoved both himself and the chair to the floor.

Hisoka didn't even feel the landing.


	5. One Flower Does Not Bring Spring

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

* * *

That's What Love Is For

Chapter Five

One Flower Does Not Bring Spring

* * *

"_I will return for you shortly."_

Tsuzuki.

Hisoka's heart thumped in fear as his eyes slid around. He didn't remember falling asleep. He'd been arguing with Byakko, angry that during one of his bouts against his lethargy the damn cat had managed to sneak the last gulp of milk down his throat.

He'd been telling Byakko in no uncertain terms that simply because the ass was waiting for Tsuzuki to wake up, that didn't mean he could go and eat his home bare... and then he'd tripped...

And suddenly he'd found himself here.

It was definitely still the laboratory, and the fire was licking around the floor and ceiling with slow ardor, but there wasn't the raging, choking mass of smoke and flames that Hisoka usually found himself in. More, Tsuzuki wasn't ahead of him, surrounded by the flames, like usual, either.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. He'd been wide awake. Well, maybe not wide, but... but he couldn't fall asleep mid-sentence! Was he... daydreaming? But he really couldn't move. He was once again trapped in place, unable to pull himself free, as if the air itself was holding him still. He tugged experimentally, but no part of his body moved.

Tsuzuki would wake him up soon. He knew it would only take a split second for Byakko to realize what had happened, and then only a short while longer for the Shikigami to awaken Tsuzuki and get him over to the table where Hisoka lay.

He would be woken up soon. Soon.

He couldn't see Tsuzuki in front of him, but he could Feel him. From behind? But he wasn't nearby... more like a few good meters distant. Hisoka tried to look, but his head didn't turn. He wanted to curse, but his lips didn't move, and his larynx didn't activate.

He just stood there stupidly waiting for the fire or Tsuzuki to come to him.

"Well, it seems the spell finally brought you to me."

Hisoka glared at nothing as the scars on his body scorched to life.

"You always were a favorite of mine. Such a pretty little pet." He Felt Tsuzuki's presence coming closer – no, not Tsuzuki's, but the fake Tsuzuki's. The steps shouldn't have echoed, not with the fire all around them, licking at the columns supporting the building, but nonetheless Hisoka heard each one distinctly.

He struggled madly where he stood. No, this couldn't happen. In this false world, there was nothing Hisoka could do – he was a victim, someone with absolutely no control over his situation. He couldn't fight back here!

"I won't let it happen," Muraki growled. "I will _not_ lose all my hard work!"

Hisoka wanted to argue, to cut a scathing retort, but of course he couldn't. Tsuzuki's chest bumped against his back. The man's emotions were deadened, almost non-existent. It wasn't normal; usually Hisoka could Feel the man's hate coming off of him in waves. It made him nervous, made him fear the body behind him more than usual. It _couldn't_ be the real Tsuzuki... but still, the lack of emotions was strange, and so discomforting.

And then Tsuzuki's hands wrapped around him, clenching his waist and chest, and the man sagged against him. Tsuzuki's chin rested on Hisoka's shoulder, leaving the dark swirls of hair to tickle at Hisoka's cheek.

"Hisoka – Hisoka. Thank God. You _idiot_." Those hands clenched around him tighter. "What were you thinking? We're close to the end, but we still have to be careful. Come on. We have to get out of here."

Hisoka couldn't Feel much, the emotions were still so muted. But _why_ were they muted? And what the hell was this fake Tsuzuki talking about? It sounded... almost real.

But the real Tsuzuki couldn't be here.

Could he?

Tsuzuki unwrapped himself from around Hisoka and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him back. "Hisoka? Hurry – oh. _Shit_, that's right; you can't move." And Tsuzuki came around to face him. "Hisoka – I can't stay in here much longer. I'm going to get you out, okay? Just wait a little while longer, all right?"

What was happening? Where was the fake Tsuzuki? Hisoka wanted so desperately to speak, to ask. He tried to convey his questions with his eyes, and was surprised to see the Tsuzuki in front of him trying to read them.

"Ah, Tsuzuki. It's so nice to see you again."

Tsuzuki immediately snapped his spine straight and glared around. "Muraki! So you really _are_ here! Let Hisoka _go!"_

"I'm afraid not, my love. And you shouldn't have come. Your dear Hisoka seems to like it here. He isn't even trying to leave."

"That's because _you_ have him trapped here!" Tsuzuki raged. Hisoka could Feel his anger, but there wasn't a lot of it, and it seemed almost as if it were covered by cottonballs.

If it truly _was_ Tsuzuki... then how the hell had he gotten inside the dream?

Hisoka's heart tripped in fear. This was bad. Tsuzuki was in the dream, and if he truly had managed to find a way inside, he'd willingly placed himself in danger. This wasn't the real world. Muraki was God here, able to manipulate everything-

"Ah, but my precious little demon, you've trapped yourself here, as well. What should I do? Leave you here with my dear pet? Or should I...?" And the man chuckled.

Hisoka clenched his muscles tight, expending all his energy in his effort to _move_, to get to Tsuzuki as the man turned around, then around again, trying to find Muraki somewhere in the empty lab. Hisoka couldn't tell him that Muraki was never there in any sort of form. He couldn't warn Tsuzuki away. All he could do was waste his time and energy trying to do something for Tsuzuki, even knowing he couldn't.

"Damn you, Muraki, show yourself!"

"Oh? But am I your greatest fear?"

Hisoka's heart trip-hammered in his chest, even as his lungs grew cold. He couldn't. If Muraki managed to send Tsuzuki to those days when he was human, Hisoka would never be able to forgive himself. And Muraki would have them both.

That was unacceptable.

"I won't let you have your way," Tsuzuki hissed, turning back toward Hisoka. Those amethyst eyes flashed back to Hisoka, taking in the younger boy's fearful face. Tsuzuki gave him a reassuring smile.

And just like that, he was gone.

Hisoka struggled against whatever invisible bonds held him, his chest tight with terror. If that was Tsuzuki – if it was him, the real Tsuzuki – then he'd just been...

"Now, shall we continue where we left off?" Muraki mused, and Hisoka was suddenly aware of Tsuzuki behind him again, of the echoing footsteps. His mind stumbled over itself in confusion. What was this? Had that all been fake? Had he imagined it?

But the footsteps stopped behind him, and the Feel was suddenly different. Anger, hatred, triumph. Arms wrapped around him again, but this time the fingers scratched against his chest, over his nipples, and he gasped a pained breath through his nose. Tsuzuki's head bent down again, but this time his teeth bit cruelly into Hisoka's neck. He couldn't move away from it, and the Fake-Tsuzuki took the chance to tear into the skin, moving his lower jaw to dig deeper. Tears of pain spurted into Hisoka's eyes.

"Oh? How fascinating. Seems your dear feelings were returned, my little doll. He's watching me take your soul."

The pain that tore through him then was different from Tsuzuki's jaw, deeper and more agonizing than anything he could have imagined. The tears fell silently down his cheeks.

_Tsuzuki_.

No. No, this couldn't be happening. Tsuzuki wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be safe. Hisoka was the one who was supposed to be suffering, the one who had to deal with his worst nightmare. Why? Why did Tsuzuki have to hurt even more?

Fake-Tsuzuki's hands slid down Hisoka's arms, down to his fingers. His right hand was released, but his left was lingered on. And before Hisoka could bring himself to notice this, his first finger was yanked back, and a smart snap preceded the sharp lance of pain.

Muraki chuckled. "I'm afraid I simply must leave you, my puppet. My dear love's pain is more precious than gold."

_Leave him alone!_ He wanted to scream, but still nothing of him worked. What was Tsuzuki seeing? What was he going through? Was the man truly watching Hisoka's death? He knew for a fact how crippling it was to see the one you loved die in front of you. He'd seen it enough times to know, after all.

A warmth touched his lips, almost searing in its heat. Fake-Tsuzuki walked around him and grabbed his lower lip, pinching it between his fingers.

Why did his face feel wet where none of his tears had fallen?

"Let's not waste any more time," Fake-Tsuzuki said, his lips twisting up. The look didn't suit Tsuzuki's face at all.

_Tsuzuki._

The man's cool hands wrapped tenderly around Hisoka's left arm, bracing it. Hisoka knew very well what was coming, but he couldn't move to stop it. And with one sharp wrench, his arm was broken.

He couldn't scream, but he thought he heard a shout, anyway. The fire flashed brighter around him and climbed further up the columns. The heat was getting stronger.

"Ah, how magnificent," Muraki spoke, his voice so sudden Hisoka thought he might have jumped if he weren't stuck in place. "My dear Tsuzuki will find it hard to wake up for quite a while," he chuckled. "His mind won't be leaving here for some time. He shouldn't have come to save you. But of course, if his greatest fear was losing you, I suppose he didn't have much of a choice. It makes me quite jealous, actually."

Hisoka's breath stuttered to a halt once more.

Fake-Tsuzuki took the lapse of attention personally, it seemed; he snapped Hisoka's other arm in retribution.

Hisoka felt the pain up and down his arm and into his neck, but it seemed so unimportant. Was... Tsuzuki really here, in the dream? Was he...?

The warmth returned to his lips, the wetness increasing. Deep inside him, he thought he Felt someone's terror and dread.

The Fake-Tsuzuki knelt onto one knee before him and looked up into his eyes. Tsuzuki was smiling, but it wasn't the real Tsuzuki's smile. It wasn't the sweet, almost melancholy smile of their first days together, and it certainly wasn't the smile brimming with happiness that Hisoka had been graced with that day underneath the sakura trees.

The fake Tsuzuki's hand slid up his legs and encircled his waist. Bad. This was going to be very, very bad.

The man's grip had always been surprisingly strong, but this fake Tsuzuki had more, far more, as if he'd been given steroids. Hisoka couldn't react as the man's hands clenched hard on either side of his stomach, but that was probably best.

"Hm. This is going far too slowly – I'm missing crucial time with my beloved. Hurry up, will you?"

Hisoka's eyes didn't waver from the Fake-Tsuzuki, but nonetheless he didn't see where the knife came from.

It wasn't a simple house knife – no, such a thing would be far too tacky for Muraki's tastes. It looked to be a kris, the blade curved into little ripples. The Fake-Tsuzuki looked down at it for a moment, studying it.

Hisoka pulled futilely once more. Maybe if he could escape somehow, then he could get to Tsuzuki-

A part of him, as if from very far away, thought he heard someone screaming.

But his attention was drawn back down to Tsuzuki, whose fingers played upon the blade but whose eyes had moved to study the lower half of Hisoka's body. He felt his fear spike, a natural male instinct to preserve himself.

But the blade, when moved, was not put to rest against Hisoka's groin, but instead against his inner thigh. To tease? Hisoka once again tested his invisible chains, hoping to escape before anything more happened. His arms hurt with every heartbeat.

Slowly, deliberately, the Fake-Tsuzuki tore a long, deep gash on the inside of Hisoka's thigh. He pulled in another breath through his nose, unable to do anything else to acknowledge the pain, but still it was there, and Hisoka felt his blood immediately coat his leg and spurt. A vein? The femoral artery, he remembered belatedly, as the Fake-Tsuzuki turned to his other leg and repeated the same process. This Tsuzuki was controlled by Muraki. A doctor. He would know exactly where to... to cut.

Hisoka couldn't move, but he felt his body lax despite his fear and pain. He tried to pull in more energy, but he just couldn't find it. He felt veritable rivers of blood pooling at his feet. The fire raged higher than ever, as if feeling his weakness and wanting to feed on it. On him.

Fake-Tsuzuki stood then and smirked, their faces only inches apart. "Much better," he whispered. "Your heart is so fragile, Hisoka. You try to act tough, but you're still just a child. You hear that your love is in danger, and you lose sight of the truth."

"Did you find the seal, my puppet? Did you salvage anything from the fire? Let me tell you a little secret." Muraki's voice echoed within the false room. Hisoka could hardly hear it, his body sagging into its restraints. Why did he think he heard someone crying?

"_Hisoka!"_

"The curse I placed on you?" Muraki paused dramatically, even though he wasn't corporeal enough to lean in and whisper into Hisoka's ear, "no one can enter it from the outside except myself."

Hisoka jerked back into awareness. His mind whirred. The seal, he remembered, and studied it in his mind again. The seal had been made out of circles within circles. No part of the seal had rested outside of it. Circles were difficult to penetrate, being equal on all sides.

Muraki was right. It most likely wouldn't be possible for someone to break in.

But that meant... Hisoka's eyes widened minutely as shame poured over him. His heart tripped once, then again. That meant Tsuzuki wasn't here. He hadn't entered Hisoka's dream – he hadn't been caught by Muraki.

And then he let himself sag once more. Thank goodness. Thank goodness. That meant Tsuzuki was unharmed.

"So what will you do now, I wonder? You certainly can't fight me. You can't live much longer, either. What will you do, my little doll, now that you're about to leave the worlds?"

"_Hisoka!"_

The shot of despair pierced straight through Hisoka's last vestiges of consciousness and make him look around groggily, eyes desperately trying to scan as much as they could without the aid of a turning neck. He could hear a voice, and could Feel a desolation so great it ate at him. This time when his heart beat, he was unaware of the pain flowing from every corner of his body as relief and happiness chugged sluggishly through his system.

_Tsuzuki._

His eyes raised to the ceiling above him, trying to reach out for the voice.

"It's too late!" Muraki cackled. "Yes – let him wake you. Let him see just how hopeless his situation is! And when he sees – when he understands – who do you think he will crawl to, little boy? Who do you think he will beg on bended knee to spare your life? Bring him to me! Bring my beautiful body to me!"

No... he wouldn't let that happen...

He Felt Tsuzuki's call, an inner, tormented scream that pulled Hisoka free from where he stood, and finally he began to fall to the ground of the burning building, letting his weary body collapse in defeat.

Hisoka's eyes were heavy, almost heavy enough to make him give up on the challenge of opening them. But the wracking sobs he heard and the harsh, merciless tug of despair across his senses forced him to bully his way toward the surface of consciousness.

Then the pain slammed into him, hard and quick, and he let out a breathy moan of distress. It was the moan that broke Tsuzuki out of his crying and had him touching Hisoka's shoulders, feather-light. "H-Hisoka?"

"Tsuzuki." He couldn't manage much more than a short breath, almost too quiet to be heard. He slid his gaze over to Tsuzuki's voice. The man looked horrible. His hair was up in alfalfa sprouts and his face was awash with tears, his eyes red and swollen. But otherwise, Hisoka noted in high relief, he looked all right.

"Hisoka, oh thank God."

The words were so similar to what the fake Tsuzuki had said in the dream that Hisoka flinched. Tsuzuki immediately let go, mistakenly thinking he'd hurt Hisoka. "I..." Despite himself, Hisoka's eyes drooped. "I'm sorry. I was careless."

"I don't – I don't care about that." Tsuzuki sounded ready to burst into tears again. "Just hold on, okay? I'm going to get some wrappings..." And Tsuzuki made to stand.

"No!" Hisoka moved to reach out and grab Tsuzuki back down, momentarily forgetting about his broken arms in his haste. He screamed then as his bone shifted against its other half. "Don't," he panted. "Don't go. I need you h-here."

Tsuzuki seemed surprised by that admission, but he immediately sat back down, and Hisoka couldn't care about anything else at that moment. "I – I messed up. We're so close, and I..."

"Don't worry about it, it doesn't matter. Watari will find the way to break the curse and we'll be able to free you. You won't disappear. You'll stay with me."

It sounded more like Tsuzuki was trying to convince himself.

"I won't leave you," Hisoka whispered. "Enma knows no one else can stand to work with you."

Tsuzuki coughed out an almost hysterical chuckle. "That's right. You're the only one who can keep me in line. Right, Hisoka?"

"Mm." Hisoka's eyes drooped again, almost shutting closed. He could feel his tired body trying to heal itself and wanted to scream at the wave of exhaustion that swept over him. His finger was the first to be healed, the easiest thing to take care of. Hisoka was vaguely aware of the blood that still ran freely from his open wounds and scowled. That would be impossible to get out of the carpet.

"Hisoka? Hisoka, please talk to me."

"Hmm. Thank you for calling me back, Tsuzuki."

The man's emotions didn't react well to that one. "I – I failed. No matter what I did, you wouldn't come back to me. I kept screaming for you, kept touching you, even-" and here he blushed "-even kissed you, but none of it worked."

"No," Hisoka sighed, arguing quietly. "It worked." He took a second to look around. The chair was still toppled over, but it lay beside him, though he was positive he'd fallen with it tangled around him. Tsuzuki must have flung it away. Or maybe Byakko had?

He reached out emotionally, but he couldn't Feel the Shikigami around anymore. He guessed the annoying brat had been sent away and let that be enough for him.

Tsuzuki gasped, one sharp intake of horror, and Hisoka was forced to turn back to him, brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

Wordlessly Tsuzuki looked down to Hisoka's right arm. At Hisoka's uncomprehending look, Tsuzuki gently lifted Hisoka's right arm, holding Hisoka's hand up to be studied by the both of them. His fingers were transparent.

Hisoka hissed. "This can't continue," he sighed. "Watari needs to hurry up."

But Tsuzuki's fingers were trembling, and his emotions were anything but patient. "We don't have time to wait. We can't gamble on Watari's genius solving this in time."

The steely determination made Hisoka's chest freeze. "No. Tsuzuki, you can't." Tsuzuki placed his hand back down, his touch acting as if Hisoka were porcelain, and stood. "No. Tsuzuki, this is just what he wants. He said he wanted you to-"

"Then that's what I'll do!" Tsuzuki snarled. His fists clenched tight. Hisoka could Feel the man's emotions, and there was only desperate determination.

"Tsuzuki, you can't," Hisoka managed. "He wants you – he _said_ he wanted-"

"Hisoka." Tsuzuki turned to him again, and before Hisoka knew it, Tsuzuki had leaned down and kissed him. "I can't let this continue. I have to go to him."

"Then I'm going with you," Hisoka hissed.

"The _hell_ you are."

"You're not allowed to go anywhere alone! Partners stick together!"

"That's what I'm trying to ensure!"

Hisoka's breath gasped in at the sharp flow of fear that Tsuzuki lost grip of. Fear, panic. Hisoka struggled to get up from the floor, needing to stand. "I won't let you go alone. Take Tatsumi, at least."

"No. He won't speak to me if Tatsumi's there."

"_You can't go alone!" _Hisoka clutched at Tsuzuki's arm with his tangible fingers. His grip was pathetically weak, but he didn't let it deter him. He needed to make sure Tsuzuki didn't up and leave him. He had to do whatever it took. "You can't go alone," he repeated. "Take me. Let me go with you. I can't do much, but I'm not useless yet. And what if something happens when you aren't here?" He knew it was underhanded, pulling that one out, but he Felt Tsuzuki's hesitation, Felt the fear morph to this new fear. And he knew he could win if he only tried a little harder.

It took every once of will to stand. His legs were no longer bleeding, and the wave of exhaustion his healing left him with almost made him fall once more to the ground. But with a gritting of his teeth and a steady hand on the table, he managed to get his feet firmly planted underneath him. "Tsuzuki," he gasped, "don't leave me."

It was difficult to say the words, but he could Feel the victory they brought him. Tsuzuki gave in. "I won't," he whispered, and Hisoka let the man's arms encircle him. "I won't leave you, Hisoka." His emotions finished his words for him: _so don't you leave me_. And come hell itself, Hisoka would do his utmost not to.

Hisoka wasn't much back-up, but it was better than Tsuzuki going alone.

* * *

By the time the two got back to the mortal world, Hisoka was once again under control, his and Tsuzuki's clothes changed – the amount of blood all over them had been bad, ridiculously bad, and Tsuzuki had been so traumatized by it he'd needed to take a quick shower – and Hisoka was able to stand. His hand, too, had gained a bit more color, though not much; he ended up having to hide its nonexistence in his pocket.

They walked down a street for a short while, passing others on their way to or from, Tsuzuki's eyes switching from left to right and his hands practically itching to grab Hisoka and pull him horizontal, to make him rest. The Feel of Tsuzuki's worry was almost as consuming as his own concern.

"I don't know where to look," Tsuzuki admitted.

"Why bother looking?" Hisoka muttered. "Just go somewhere private and yell out for him. The bastard has the habit of showing up _everywhere_."

Tsuzuki frowned at that, apparently unaware of the heavy level of sarcasm in Hisoka's voice.

"I could try to call him," Hisoka said, his voice much lower now. "I know his magical energies well enough – and Chief Konoe taught me enough – that I should be able to at least link to him."

"But you don't have-"

"Don't even start that," Hisoka snapped. He didn't wait for Tsuzuki to try to argue against him doing it – how the hell else were they supposed to find the man? Hisoka was short on time. He knew much fuller than Tsuzuki just how much strength he had left. He was working on fumes. Tsuzuki didn't know that.

Tsuzuki quickly found a chapel and led Hisoka to it, the frown on his face deepening as he entered. Hisoka couldn't help but think about the spell he'd seen on a church floor, one he'd known had been hurting Tsuzuki. Back when they'd first met. He didn't want to think about it, to wonder at the parallels. He couldn't afford to.

The place was small, dark and almost oppressive. Hisoka never really liked the Feel of churches – the enclosed, sacred oneness that it demanded, the Feelings of need and desperation and a sort of faith that begged. Then there was the stench of hope that sang through it all, greedy hope. Hisoka rolled his shoulders. He really didn't like it here.

"Hisoka? Are you all right?"

Vaguely he nodded, not bothering to look into Tsuzuki's eyes, knowing the man would be looking down at him with that familiar scared glance, the assessing one that didn't know whether to grab and protect or let him be. The damn windows were all stained, each depicting a person in an ethereal glow. He avoided looking into their eyes. "Let's get this started."

"Hisoka..."

"I told you not to start." But he clapped Tsuzuki on the shoulder and smiled for him. "The sooner all of this bullshit is over, the sooner I can sleep in peace and the sooner we can get back to normal."

The hope in Tsuzuki's emotions was a thousand times more soothing than the church's.

He pulled his translucent hand out, relieved to see it slowly returning, and concentrated. His tiredness wasn't important; his unsteadiness was irrelevant. He needed to find Muraki and bring him here, and he needed to protect Tsuzuki from the obvious threat Muraki represented. He couldn't let Tsuzuki make any stupid sacrifices for him.

"You know I'd never forgive you... if you did something idiotic now, right?"

Tsuzuki said nothing, but Hisoka knew he was listening. Knew he was reacting.

"...I know."

And Hisoka would have to be content with that. For now.

It was difficult to pull the threads of the energy together, since one of his hands wasn't there to form it. He had to close his eyes and strain to catch every thread he could, and he found himself thankful that he was in a church, if for no other reason than because the energies could morph and thrive in this building without fear of being considered evil. Though it was misinterpreted, the energy could grow and purify. Hisoka blew out a steady breath and circled his good hand around the small orb. He thought on Muraki, on his physical form, on his madness. His mind slipped farther before he could stop it, remembering his touch, his voice, his laughter, and he felt, once more, the disgust and dirtiness of the memories.

But it worked.

Almost before he started chanting, Muraki's presence could be Felt from within the orb. He paused in his chanting long enough to say, simply, "we're here." And then he began chanting again.

Tsuzuki took Hisoka's words as his cue and stood at the ready, his eyes once more glancing everywhere at once, unsure of where to look.

It took a long time, and Hisoka could only assume the man had been a fair distance away – or perhaps he was forcing Hisoka to wait, to work, to suffer under the strain – but Muraki walked calmly through the front doors of the chapel almost an hour after Hisoka had begun calling to him. With a gasp, Hisoka let the orb fall. The light it made, a soft, dark gold, crashed to the wooden floor of the church and disappeared. Hisoka felt sweat on his brow and upper lip and felt the weight of his body slam into each of his limbs. His hands fell to his sides, but he kept his feet underneath him.

"Ah, I see you couldn't wait for me."

Muraki's eyes turned to Hisoka, and the man grinned outright. "My dear doll, you look an absolute mess. You should take better care of yourself."

Hisoka snarled, but he couldn't find the energy to string together a proper insult.

"Leave Hisoka alone," Tsuzuki demanded, standing in front of Hisoka, blocking the boy's view of Muraki.

The pain of the curse made Hisoka's body tremble even harder than before, almost as if he had palsy. Still he tested the strength of his arms, ready to do whatever he could to stop Tsuzuki from his inevitable self-sacrificing stupidity.

"I have plans for him."

"I won't let you hurt him!"

"And what can you do to stop me? Haven't you seen how easily I can thwart you, my dear Tsuzuki?"

Muraki moved with his usual fluidity to stand before Tsuzuki and cupped the man's chin. Hisoka put his hands together, wishing both were corporeal so that he could guarantee Tsuzuki's safety.

Muraki's eyes flicked to him and caught on his right hand. "My, my. Looks like you're in trouble, little one."

Hisoka bared his teeth. "Not for much longer."

"Oh?" The man grinned widely. "_Sleep_."

Hisoka staggered back, his breath stuck in his throat. His legs trembled. "No!" he shouted. "I won't!"

Tsuzuki smacked Muraki's hand away from him. "Leave him alone! You have no guarantee of getting what you want from Hisoka – but from me?! There's no question you can get that person back if you use me!"

"Tsuzuki, _no!"_

Muraki laughed. "Why take one when I can have both?"

"If you won't take one," Tsuzuki growled, "you won't get either!" He snapped his hands forward. " I, Asato Tsuzuki, call upon you according to our contract, Guardian of the South. Come, Suzaku!"

Hisoka barely had time to cover his face before the great bird burst out at Tsuzuki's call. Suzaku attacked Muraki before Tsuzuki could even tell her to, as if she'd been about to do so whether he called for her or not.

"Dear Tsuzuki, you flatter me." Muraki ignored Suzaku's fiery wings, even as they closed around him. The heat was sudden and overpowering, and it reminded Hisoka too much of his dreams. He squinted his eyes and stared at Tsuzuki, at the back that was staring into flames. His heart lurched in his chest.

Hisoka leaned his hands forward and clenched them, drawing on all the power he could. He had to protect Tsuzuki. During this fight... unlike the others, when he'd been bait, or useless, or merely a spectator... this time, he would do everything he could. And the power he had, the strength he had... it all lay in protection.

He called out to the remaining energy in the room and _demanded_ it to work for him.

Suzaku screeched in pain as Hisoka worked, and Tsuzuki's emotions spluttered in concern. His focus snapped. "Suzaku?!"

"You underestimate me!" Muraki shot forward from Suzaku's fire, a glistening aura showing the shield he'd placed around himself. Tsuzuki stumbled away from the man's assault, but Muraki's hand shot out and caught his wrist. Tsuzuki cursed as his eyes fell on Muraki's free hand and the dark purple glow that tinged the man's fingers.

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka summoned the power in the room and shouted a quick, "Nipootateuw!" He focused on Tsuzuki, thought about the man's violet eyes and bright, wide smile and the sorrow of his soul that Hisoka wished he could take away. He thought about how much he _loved_ Tsuzuki, loved him despite the stupidity of the word and the fluidity of the term, and he prayed this quick spell _worked_.

With a shout of triumph, Muraki's hand crashed into Tsuzuki's stomach. Tsuzuki jumped and hissed.

And then they both paused, staring at where their bodies meshed as if they'd never seen such things before. And then both, as one, turned to Hisoka, taking in his outstretched hand, his panting breaths and the sweat that poured down his cheeks.

"Tsuzuki," he breathed.

Tsuzuki nodded and turned to Muraki, who was snarling at Hisoka. With one smooth twist, Muraki's wrist was in Tsuzuki's hand. "Suzaku!"

The Shikigami screeched, telling Tsuzuki to move, but he didn't budge.

"I got him," Hisoka gasped out, then again, "I got him, Suzaku! Just hurry!"

Muraki glared at Hisoka again, then let his eyes slide to Tsuzuki. "I will never let the boy go," he hissed. "He will continue to fade until he doesn't exist, and you and I will be alone together at last."

Tsuzuki stumbled back, his emotions jumbled in doubt. If he messed up, there wouldn't be a second chance. Hisoka would be gone.

"I'm not going anywhere!" Hisoka shouted, more for Tsuzuki's benefit than for anything else, and he shaped the golden shroud that acted as a barrier between Tsuzuki and Muraki as Tsuzuki's grip loosened.

Suzaku screamed again and lurched forward.

Muraki turned to Hisoka and slashed the air, an arc of blue-gray energy that sliced like a blade. Hisoka barely managed to dodge, his hand still out, still pointing toward Tsuzuki, even as the fool turned to Hisoka as if to try to protect him.

Suzaku made up for Tsuzuki's lapse of judgment, tearing her beak into Muraki's shoulder. He shouted in pain and pulled his free arm forward. With a short mesh of movements, his hand once again began to glow that deep purple.

"Suzaku, look out!" Tsuzuki waved Suzaku back and grabbed Muraki's hand. "Now, Suzaku!"

"You will fail!" Muraki snapped, his eyes wide, his hair finally askew. "Just like before!"

"I don't have the option of failing."

Hisoka strained to keep Tsuzuki in his hastily-made shield. He couldn't afford to fail. Not now, as Suzaku made a third sweep, her flaming feathers burning the pews, the heat making the stained glass windows tremble.

Suzaku encircled them both, just as Hisoka's legs finally collapsed underneath him. With a gasp, he looked at his right arm and watched as he caught the sight of a flame beneath his wrist.

Through his wrist.

"Tsuzuki," he hissed, and turned his eyes back to the fireball, the bird's head that dug into the wings and the crunch and scream of _something_. The crackle and hiss of burning wood popped through the air, and flames crawled like snakes to the pulpit.

"Suzaku, get away from him." Hisoka coughed and leaned down, trying to get away from the smoke that furled around the ceiling. "Get away from him..." His voice rasped, his throat dry. "Suzaku! Stop!"

Suzaku's head raised and turned to him, those eyes taking in his trembling hand and his posture, straining to keep balance as he leaned forward on his knees, unable to use any hand to help keep his balance. With a screech, she flapped away from the two beneath her, carefully watching Hisoka, almost asking for him to hold on.

But when she moved, only a few burns had dug their way through that damnable white trenchcoat, and the shimmering white light was there again.

"I'm sorry, Tsuzuki," Hisoka gasped out. Finally he dropped his hand and clapped it to the floor, holding himself up and hacking at the smoke. One of the windows burst.

"Hisoka!"

"Pay attention, my love." Hisoka whipped his head up at the words and felt his head start to pound. Tsuzuki and Muraki were dancing, Muraki lunging forward, Tsuzuki tripping back. Muraki was on the offensive, and Tsuzuki seemed to be losing too much ground. Hisoka saw him falling back, deeper into the fire, and struggled to get his feet to work.

"Suzaku, please help him." Hisoka used his good hand to crawl forward, even as the insistent pull of unconsciousness banged its way through his skull. Suzaku seemed to want nothing more than to move forward, but the two were too close to one another-

"Aah!" Tsuzuki's shout was lost in the crunch of breaking timber. Hisoka looked up; the building's plaster was on fire; pieces were beginning to fall from above. A hail of fire. Muraki cackled, his wide eyes glittering in the blaze. Tsuzuki hugged his arm to his side.

"You cannot defeat me, Tsuzuki. You and I both know it – that humanity you try to cling to – it will kill you." Muraki reached out a hand, just barely touching Tsuzuki's cheek before Tsuzuki shook him away and backed up another step. The remains of a pew rested just behind him, burning. He had nowhere to run.

Hisoka reached forward again, concentrating on the fire's heat, its rage and its greed. _He_ was furious, _he_ was greedy. He wanted Tsuzuki to live, and he wanted _himself_ to live.

And he wanted Muraki to die.

Suzaku seemed to see what he was planning and cried out encouragement. One sharp flap of her wings sent a gust of flames, straight into the path Hisoka was trying to create – he hissed his thanks and pushed everything forward, leaning on his bad arm, which simply let him lean on his lower arm as if there'd never been anything below it.

He yelped as he found himself falling to his right as more of his arm became unable to hold him up. He tried to compensate with his right foot and found himself floundering, unable to feel anything there, either. He hitched in a breath.

And Tsuzuki moved.

Hisoka shouted a warning, but it came too late. As Tsuzuki moved to attack Muraki, he moved straight into Hisoka's flames.

It was too late to pull it back. Impossible to stop. _Protect_, he thought, and spoke, his words garbled, and said the word in every language Konoe had taught him, every language he'd ever thought to know. Muraki screamed as the fire wrapped around his leg, then his groin.

Tsuzuki was silent.

Hisoka's focus dimmed and brightened, then dimmed again. He squinted his eyes and pulled away the fire, stopped pushing, and let his hand drop once more. He tried to see something through the smoke, but there was nothing. Nothing but dark grey and sounds. Scuffling, grunts. He wished he could do more. He wished he wasn't uselessly disappearing when Tsuzuki needed him.

He reached forward, then snapped his hand back as plaster slammed down. The dust flew into Hisoka's face, sparking through the fire, and Hisoka had to close his eyes and cough or else lose the ability to breathe. He heard the rumble of wood that spoke of someone kicking against it, heard a snatch of shouted words. His head swam, the beat of his heart pounding against his skull.

He heard Tsuzuki's voice shouting something, but he couldn't make it out. He gave up on trying to hear and listened with his other sense. Tsuzuki and Muraki were both determined, furious. Tsuzuki was Feeling something almost desperate, as if he were being timed. Muraki, on the other hand, Felt like he had all the time in the world. Like time was on his side.

That put Muraki in advantage.

"Suzaku!" Tsuzuki suddenly screamed, and with a cry Suzaku moved forward, and then Hisoka could see nothing around him but fire.

He hated it. Hated how his mind flashed straight back to those stupid dreams.

Well, he was used to getting burned.

Hisoka carefully pushed himself up on his ankle, used it as a launchpad for his healthy foot and just got himself up from the floor, into the thick of the smoke, following Tsuzuki's emotions. They kept shifting, over and over again – fear, resolve, worry, trepidation, and the hate that coursed within him whenever Muraki was involved.

And hesitation.

Hisoka grabbed onto the first thing he could; a broken piece of what had once been the ceiling of the church, a long stretch of wood with a jagged end, like a spear. It was heavy, and almost impossible to carry in one hand as he limped and struggled forward. He thought he could see something in front of him.

The smoke was denser now, thick, dark grey, almost black, and Hisoka felt his lungs constrict on the thick air. His eyes watered from the heat.

He thought he could see shapes, almost human, and he could certainly hear something above the crackles and hisses and roars of the flames, above even the sounds of the building creaking and cracking all around them. Was Tsuzuki yelling? Was it truly as anguished as it Felt?

The pain in Tsuzuki's chest was what finally got Hisoka moving again, faster than before, stumbling like a drunk on his stump of a leg, and the fire caught onto his clothes, his ankle, pulling at him. He almost fell when his bad leg hit a piece of burning debris, almost fell. He didn't even know what kept him upright.

Getting nearer, he could see a bit more, could see that the shapes were definitely human, definitely moving, and Tsuzuki was definitely in pain, his emotions searing Hisoka's chest. Tsuzuki's body was dodging, fading away from Muraki's attacks, though his feet were working and his hands were moving. A screech told Hisoka that Suzaku was watching, screaming something, but Hisoka couldn't turn away. He held out his good hand, saw the piece of wood beneath his fingers. Time. He was running out of time. And Tsuzuki kept dodging. Had he been hurt?

"You can't do it, can you?" Muraki cackled then, loud enough for Hisoka to hear him. He stumbled over a plate of plaster and suddenly saw colors; Tsuzuki's trenchcoat had taken damage, was ripped almost to his waist. Muraki's wasn't ripped, but a burn had ripped his pants leg and one of his arms.

Tsuzuki's arm was bleeding.

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka whispered, but the fire swallowed his call.

"You can't kill me! This is rich! Your kindness will kill that boy!"

Muraki lashed out at Tsuzuki, and the man pulled back again, his hand hesitating in the air. Trembling. His fingers were trembling.

_Tsuzuki_.

Hisoka wanted to curse, but he didn't want to waste the energy. Tsuzuki was afraid of killing, of hurting. Hisoka couldn't let Tsuzuki take on such a burden, knowing that it could break the man. Making Tsuzuki choose between himself and Muraki – it was the same thing as when Muraki had used that damn Mariko girl, making Tsuzuki choose between himself and her. Hisoka wouldn't let Tsuzuki be his Suzaku – he wouldn't let Tsuzuki take the burden.

He wasn't dumb enough to shout. He wasn't stupid enough to charge. He simply stumbled forward until he was certain his path was clear enough and then he slid in as Muraki turned to Tsuzuki, leaving his back to Hisoka. Tsuzuki's eyes flashed to him, widened, and Muraki turned back around. With a snarl, Muraki lifted his glowing hand and thrust for Hisoka.

"No!" Tsuzuki gasped, lunging forward, forgetting, in his haste to protect, his own desire not to harm.

Hisoka dodged under the attack and lifted his block of wood up, and with a sharp plunge dove the jagged end into Muraki's upper abdomen, right between two of his left ribs. Muraki doubled over, and the energy on his hand dissolved. With a gasp, Hisoka's hand slipped through his makeshift weapon and he fell forward. Muraki stumbled away, cursing, screaming.

Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka before he fell headfirst into the flames. "Hisoka? Hisoka!" Tsuzuki made to check Hisoka – his hand skimmed quickly over Hisoka's head and chest – and then he stopped and choked in a gasp. "Oh, Enma – no, no..." He must have seen how much Hisoka had faded.

"You little bitch," Muraki hissed," capturing their attention once again. Hisoka struggled to turn his head, to see... "I won't let you win. I won't let this happen. Saki... Saki..." He lifted his head, and his hair fell from in front of his right eye, showing the wide, unnatural gleam of madness. "I will get my brother back!"

Suzaku screamed, swooping forward to envelop Muraki in her wingspan. Muraki pulled his hands forward and signed, one after another. "Stop him," Hisoka whispered, seeing just what Muraki planned, but Tsuzuki had already stood, recognizing the same. Suzaku screamed again.

But with a manic laugh, Muraki disappeared away. Suzaku's wings sparked against the air uselessly.

"_Muraki!"_ Tsuzuki screamed, but it was too late. The man was gone.

And with him, Hisoka's afterlife.


	6. The Stronger the Breeze, The Stronger

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

Note: So... this came as a surprise, but this is the last chapter for the trilogy. I know, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you guys, but it's because I didn't know! It just kind've... wrapped up... sorry? Hope you enjoy, at least. :-)

* * *

That's What Love Is For

The Stronger the Breeze, The Stronger the Trees

* * *

The church crashed around them piece by piece, and Tsuzuki jumped out of his horror in time to grab Hisoka and shift them out of the building. As soon as the fresh air hit Hisoka's lungs, he started coughing up a storm, as if he'd been able to somehow ignore the smoke during the battle. He tried to grab onto Tsuzuki's arm. His hands both went straight through.

"Hisoka. Hisoka!" Tsuzuki's hands were all over him, touching his chest, his stomach, then carefully picking up each arm and studying, as if researching, his lost hands. The Shinigami's fingers shook.

Tsuzuki's skin and clothes were covered with soot, just as Hisoka assumed his were. The smudges turned Tsuzuki's hair black, his cheeks gray. His eyes, however, still glowed their unnatural violet, and the terror in them burned through the monochrome.

"Hisoka, how... what..." And before Hisoka could get his breath back enough to respond – just why the hell wasn't Tsuzuki hacking, too? – tears streaked paths through the soot on Tsuzuki's cheeks. "I failed. I..."

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka tried, but he started coughing again.

Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka and buried his face in Hisoka's hair. "Oh, God – I've lost you... Hisoka..."

He tried to speak, tried to comfort, but every moment not coughing was spent breathing. The world starting spinning and fuzzing.

The church behind them popped in the mouth of the fire, and alarms could be heard wailing closer and closer. The living were trying to clean up the mess the dead had created. Hisoka didn't bother to move, knowing they couldn't be seen. As soon as he felt he could breathe more easily, he leaned into Tsuzuki's embrace. His scars no longer burned and glowed, but they still outlined his body. He'd failed in killing Muraki. In taking the duty and pain off of Tsuzuki. He struggled to hold back his own tears. Where... where would Tsuzuki live now?

The alarms came closer, stopped. The fire department had arrived. How useless. The fire would be burned out, the church would be renovated, and Tsuzuki...

Hisoka could no longer stop his tears, Feeling Tsuzuki's anguish and pain lapping at his own. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to die. He couldn't let this happen. But what more could he do? He'd failed. He'd failed, and...

Hisoka turned his head at the sound of his name. It had come from his left, far from the sounds of fire fighters shouting orders to one another. Who...?

"Boyo!"

Now even Tsuzuki heard, and he leaned up, turning to the sound. In one quick movement Tsuzuki was on his feet, lifting Hisoka without his expressed permission. He yelped and tried futilely to grab onto Tsuzuki's shirt. His tears turned into those of frustration at the uselessness of it.

Tsuzuki turned them both to Watari, who was coming at them full-speed, 003 flying just in front of him. Tatsumi ran by Watari's side.

"Tatsumi," Tsuzuki choked, and suddenly his voice was full of hope. "Tatsumi!"

Tsuzuki's panicked tone instantly pulled the two into an even faster run, and the two were quickly by their sides. "Tsuzuki, what happened?" Tatsumi's gaze slid immediately to Hisoka, still dangling stupidly in Tsuzuki's arms. His eyes caught on Hisoka's hands and a grim look pulled on his face. "We're out of time."

"Please," Tsuzuki pleaded, "please tell me you have the cure. Please..." Tsuzuki's emotions wrapped around Hisoka, almost taking away his breath. The world fuzzed again, and Tatsumi seemed to tilt.

"Whoa, boyo." Watari caught him when he almost rolled out of Tsuzuki's desperate grip. "You have to hold on for a while longer. I have the cure, but it's back in Meifu. I didn't want to bring it to a fight..."

"He got away," Tsuzuki said, his voice tight. His grip, if possible, tightened still more. Hisoka didn't mind the pain of it; it helped his eyesight clear. "I failed. Tatsumi..."

"Let's get you all back." Tatsumi took Hisoka from Tsuzuki's arms, though being held by Tatsumi made Hisoka's defensive guards raise. That, too, helped his concentration, even if he wanted to fight against the grip. Tsuzuki, he knew, was too tired from the fight to carry them both back.

It was as they were transporting back to Meifu that Hisoka's scars began to burn with a very familiar, very old fire. He screamed.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki, exhausted as Hisoka could Feel he was, rushed to Hisoka's side. "Hisoka, what's – Oh, Enma." Tsuzuki gently touched where Hisoka's shoulder should have been, but Hisoka couldn't feel anything. "Hisoka, hold on. Don't..."

Tatsumi must have started running, because Hisoka felt his hair whip his face suddenly. Tatsumi started barking out orders, and Hisoka heard, as if from a great distance, even Terazuma promptly obey. He only realized he was still screaming when he had to pause to take a breath.

"Boyo, hold on," Watari called, and Hisoka was vaguely aware of them slowing down. His scars felt as if they were once more being torn into his skin.

"Hisoka, please," Tsuzuki pleaded, but other than the waves of guilt and self-hatred and fear, Hisoka couldn't really Feel anything. He focused on Tsuzuki's presence beside Tatsumi and let that be his anchor.

Then they were moving again, and Hisoka was being placed on a cold, hard surface, one he recognized as one of Watari's lab tables. "Sorry," Hisoka gritted out, and reached for Tsuzuki, trying to soothe. Forgetting that he had no hand. He Felt a new wave of pain from Tsuzuki as he misunderstood Hisoka's intentions, thinking Hisoka wanted comfort. Assuming his inability to grab Hisoka's hand was a failing of his own.

"Reserve your strength, Kurosaki," Tatsumi ordered. Hisoka heard clinking noises and shivered, remembering other times he'd been unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of Watari's creations before. He tried not to think about those disasters.

"Hisoka – Hisoka, hold on." Tsuzuki came to his side and placed his face in Hisoka's sight. It helped stabilize him when the world turned into pastel fuzz once more. This time his eyesight didn't clear, even when Tsuzuki touched his cheek. "Hisoka?"

"Give me the damn drug," Hisoka gritted, just as another sharp stab swept through his scars, up his arms and down his chest. His heart skittered as the heat swept along the marks across his breasts. "Ah!" He lurched on the table, and Tatsumi and Tsuzuki had to grab him to keep him from falling.

"Hisoka!"

"Kurosaki!"

"Boyo, what's happening?" Watari went to stand next to Tatsumi, something sickeningly puke-green and gelatinous in a bottle in his hands.

"How..." Hisoka bit his tongue as the next flare swept down his legs. "How is _that_ the cure?"

"I changed it into this to make it work faster!" Watari quipped, and his voice, at that moment, grated on the tension in the air. Everyone seemed too confused to react at first. Tatsumi, of course, was the one to pull them back.

"Watari, we have very little time left."

"Oh! Right, of course. Here, boyo. Lift his shirt, Tsuzuki."

Watari leaned over, the bottle tilted in his hand as if he was about to spill it on Hisoka's chest. Hisoka, even there on his death bed, had a bad feeling. Then the pain sank into his nerves and burned every scar all at once, and he could only care about the agony of it.

Tsuzuki was infinitely gentle taking off Hisoka's shirt, but he still hurried and it probably wouldn't have mattered, anyway. Hisoka bit his lip this time, ready for the flash of lightning to scorch through him. He tasted blood.

Tsuzuki saw the blood on Hisoka's lip as soon as he removed the shirt, and he immediately apologized. Hisoka turned his head and glared, but Tsuzuki misunderstood it, as well. Hisoka wished, more than he'd ever thought he would, that he could touch Tsuzuki.

"Tsuzuki, look."

Watari's serious tone turned Tsuzuki's attention to Hisoka's chest, where Watari's golden eyes were trained. "What...?" And Tsuzuki carefully traced one of the scars on Hisoka's stomach.

Hisoka screeched and pulled away from the touch, so far that he almost fell again. Tsuzuki pulled his hand back as if burned.

"All right, Kurosaki. Calm down. Watari, what is it?"

"I don't know. I think..." But Watari shook his head – or Hisoka thought he did – and carefully tipped the bottle. "Now, boyo, no matter what happens, I need you to stay still. Okay?"

Stay still? With this pain? He bit his lip again and steeled himself. If it was to live, he would do anything. He sought out Tsuzuki, and when their eyes met, he nodded.

Watari needed no further urging. An indescribable pain hit his wrists just before Watari's liquid-like cure touched his skin. He bit his lip until the blood slipped down the side of his jaw. Tsuzuki's emotions spiked at the sight, feeding off of Hisoka's pain, multiplying it. And the fire on his wrists traced his scars upward, to his elbows. Watari's tongue stuck out as he led his concoction over Hisoka's stomach.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki murmured, and Hisoka focused once more on Tsuzuki's gaze. It was so strange – no matter how bad his eyesight got, he could still find those purple eyes. His vision blurred even more, however, as the burn reached his shoulders. Why? Why could he feel this when he couldn't even see his right hand, when his arms were so faded as to be ghost-like? What was this suffering he had to endure? Why were his scars hurting so damn _much_? Had Muraki... done something to him? Before he'd run off?

Hisoka's breath hitched. No.

"Boyo," Watari said, his voice trying to reprimand but unable to, knowing the pain Hisoka must be in. Nonetheless, it worked. Hisoka clamped harder on his bottom lip and held his breath until he was certain he was once more under control.

Hisoka could hardly feel the cool liquid on his skin, his attention trapped on the lines of lava. His heart raced faster and faster as it neared his chest.

He almost jumped when the lava poured into the scars on his ankles.

"Hold on, Hisok-ah!" Tsuzuki's gasp pulled Hisoka's attention, and Tsuzuki grasped his injured arm, the one Muraki had injured. At least Tsuzuki would be physically healed, if nothing else. Hisoka wanted Tsuzuki in as little pain as possible.

The pain ran up to his knees.

"Just a little longer, boyo, and then we can get this active. Okay?" Watari looked up for a second to see Hisoka's reaction, but all he could do was nod dumbly and grind his teeth into the open wound on his lip. The taste of melted copper sang on his tongue. Tears of pain made Tsuzuki swim once more in Hisoka's gaze. He blinked to try to get them out. Tsuzuki, seeing his struggle, got rid of them with a finger. It only made Hisoka's eyes tear up all over again.

He had to live.

"His other arm is gone," Tatsumi said quietly, his voice hushed yet firm. Distancing. Tatsumi was distancing himself from the situation. For the first time, Hisoka Felt Tatsumi's emotions, trapped like icicles in his chest. He was scared, too.

"Hisoka, please hold on. Please – I'm sorry." Tsuzuki touched Hisoka's cheek. "I'm sorry I went and fought Muraki – sorry that I didn't trust in our friends. I shouldn't have – I should've listened to you, and I didn't and now..." Tsuzuki's tears were quick and unabashed. "I'm so sorry, Hisoka, I shouldn't have..."

The pain slid up to his thighs, and Watari gasped.

"Watari, don't you dare tell me you messed up." It was Tatsumi again, his lips barely moving to form the words. Hisoka couldn't turn his attention to him, couldn't break away from Tsuzuki, but it almost sounded as if Tatsumi was angry.

"Of course I didn't," Watari said, but his voice seemed almost glazed. "Boyo, I think..."

"Just hurry the fuck up," Hisoka snapped. Watari pursed his lips, but he bent back over and continued his work.

Tsuzuki hovered by Hisoka's side, but the closeness gave comfort. The pain was chiseling into his chest, around his groin, and the effort to say nothing was exhausting him. If it weren't for the agony, Hisoka knew he would be unconscious.

"Okay, boyo, we're almost ready."

Hisoka wanted to point out that Watari had already said that, but apparently it was nothing doing. Tsuzuki wiped Hisoka's bangs from his face, and only then did Hisoka realize just how damp they were. Just how much he was sweating. His lip was numb now, and he couldn't feel the pain anymore. His eyesight was patching, until all he saw were colors. He looked for the purple of Tsuzuki's eyes and panicked when he couldn't see them.

"Hold on," someone said, but this time Hisoka couldn't be sure if it was Watari or Tatsumi or-

"Just hold on, 'Soka."

Ah. Tsuzuki.

The hand returned, a cool, gentle touch. Hisoka mindlessly leaned into it. The pain swelled as it neared his heart, and his lungs burned every time he breathed. He whimpered.

"Hold on," Tsuzuki said again, and it became a mantra, repeated every other second.

"There!" Watari shouted. Hisoka was too tired to jump from surprise.

"Hurry," Tatsumi ordered.

"I am, I am." Watari must have done something, or moved, because Tsuzuki's _hold on_ was a little late. "By Enma," Watari murmured. "Tatsumi, look."

The pain cycled into his stomach, on his belly until it caught fire. Then he screamed. Tsuzuki's quick grab stopped him from bucking.

It had reached his heart.

The burn raced up his stomach, up and up, until he couldn't breathe. His scream cut off, but his flailing only increased. Despite everyone's efforts – despite his _own_ efforts – his back arched, and vaguely Hisoka felt the liquid Watari had painstakingly applied go sliding off his body. And then the fire wrapped around his heart and he could only struggle to scream again.

"Hisoka!"

"Tatsumi, isn't this – I mean, I think..."

"Just hold him down for now," Tatsumi said, his voice tight.

Hisoka couldn't breathe. He stopped trying to scream and attempted to grab his chest. His arms wouldn't move – they weren't there, he remembered vaguely, and felt tears run down the sides of his face. He was dying. He was going to die, and he was going to leave Tsuzuki without a place to live. The heart that was so important to Tsuzuki...

Helplessly he bucked and shook on the table, opening his mouth for air that never came as the flames inside him roared and snarled and devoured. His heart beat faster than a bird's, faster than light.

And then it stopped.

Hisoka slumped limp to the table.

"Hisoka!"

Tsuzuki's scream echoed off the walls, and his hands gripped Hisoka's face, cupping his cheeks. His breath caught on his throat as he tried to speak again. Watari made a strangled noise, one that made Tatsumi place his hand on the blond's shoulder.

"Hisoka, no! Don't do this to me! Don't – don't..." Tsuzuki's hands slid from the boy's face, and he grabbed the side of the table as he fell to his knees. "You can't... Hisoka..."

"Tsuzuki," Tatsumi started, but there was nothing to say, and he fell quiet again.

"Tatsumi... oh, Tatsumi – Tsuzuki – look. Is that...?"

And as Tsuzuki lifted his head, the angry, red marks on Hisoka's skin faded away.

Even though it meant the end, Tsuzuki was happy, for that short instant, that Hisoka was free from that man's hold. He lightly touched Hisoka's chest, just above his nipple, where the mark had disappeared. At least Muraki's hand was no longer on him.

He almost looked... at peace.

Maybe... maybe this was for the best? Maybe Hisoka's death was a good thing. Maybe...

Tsuzuki curled into himself. No. No matter what, he wanted Hisoka alive. Once the suffering was over, he'd wanted to be with Hisoka, to create happy memories with him. To have Hisoka's death bring the end of his suffering... it didn't seem fair. Shouldn't Hisoka be granted the chance for happiness?

He wanted Hisoka _back_.

He felt a heartbeat.

Beneath his palm, he distinctly felt the small thump of a heartbeat.

"Hisoka?" he breathed, afraid to hope. But as he watched, that small, pale chest lifted, just the tiniest bit, and fell again.

Tsuzuki shot to his feet and checked for a pulse with trembling fingers. "Hisoka? If you can hear me, please say something."

"Then this is all because..."

"That's right. Tatsumi, I think Muraki might be – you know – dead."

"That would explain the scars' disappearance."

Tsuzuki ignored them, not caring about the reason why for now. "Hisoka, please. Open your eyes."

There was definitely a pulse, but what did it mean? What had happened to Hisoka? Was he going to wake up?

"_Ow_."

The word was heaven. "Hisoka!" Tsuzuki crushed the boy into a hug.

"_Ow_, I said." Hisoka feebly struggled underneath Tsuzuki. "Your emotions hurt."

Tsuzuki tried to control them, really he did, but in the end he couldn't, so he opted to break contact with the boy. "How do you feel? What happened? Are you all right?"

Hisoka glared at him. "Are you going to let me answer, or are you just going to bark at me all day?"

Tsuzuki sat back and waited, his eyes wide and bright.

Hisoka's brow furrowed. He struggled into a sitting position and sat there for a moment, his eyes cast downward. At one point, he reached up to touch his head as if he had a headache, but grimaced and glared at his ghost-like arm. He looked back down at his legs. "I don't know what... happened..."

And Hisoka dropped like a stone back onto the table.

* * *

It wasn't as if he was unconscious. He just couldn't move.

He heard, for instance, the panicked shout Tsuzuki made as soon as he fell, and he felt the man's arm wrap underneath his neck. Tsuzuki's emotions were even more painful now than they'd been moments ago. At least then, there'd been relief, happiness. Joy. Now they were garbled in a mess of confusion and terror. They _hurt_.

Something must've happened – maybe he groaned, or maybe Tatsumi, always level-headed, had reminded Tsuzuki of what Hisoka had said earlier – but Tsuzuki's emotions wavered and then, like a switch had been thrown, Tsuzuki's emotions changed to love, concern, kindness. They were strong, just as strong as his fear, but it was as if a vice had been clamped around his negative emotions. Thank goodness.

He had no idea what the hell they were all doing, but someone cleaned up the shit Watari had put on him, and someone else washed the sweat off his face and forehead. Someone entered the room – it sounded like Wakaba – and someone lifted him. Hisoka recognized the feel of Tsuzuki surrounding him and smiled.

"What happened to his arms?"

"Is the kid all right?"

Terazuma? Hisoka wanted to say something to that one, but his body wouldn't respond.

Tsuzuki was the one to answer. "We don't know."

Wakaba gasped. If Terazuma said anything, Hisoka didn't hear it.

It was a while later before he heard anything else. The next thing he felt was the wind. Tsuzuki pulled him closer, protecting him from the cool air. He thought he smelled the sakura trees for a short time.

The wind was gone eventually, and Tsuzuki's footsteps banged instead of crunched. They were inside. No one was talking. The silence continued until a few minutes later, when Tsuzuki stopped and said quietly, "in my front pocket." And then a small scuffle occurred, and Hisoka was jostled a bit. Hisoka felt a sleeve brush against his head, one that wasn't Tsuzuki's. It soon left, and the sounds of a door being unlocked took its place. Tsuzuki was moving again, and a new brightness shone behind Hisoka's lids. Someone must have turned on lights.

The arms around him shifted, and he was placed on something cool. Everywhere the scent of Tsuzuki wrapped around him. Behind his head, something soft of fluffy and cool sank. Beneath him was an equally cool, equally soft feel. A bed. He took another breath and sighed. Tsuzuki's bed.

"Step back, Tsuzuki, and let me see." Watari's voice. Hisoka Felt a presence above him. Worry. Curiosity. Confusion.

"Shouldn't we get a doctor?" Tsuzuki asked, and fear seeped from him before he once again focused on love and camaraderie.

"This is linked to Kurosaki's curse. Watari knows about such things, and he's well versed in nursing. For now, he's the best person for the job."

Hisoka's body was probed. He wanted to pull away from it, to slap the hands away, but his body remained still. For the first time, Hisoka was troubled by the lack of response. He felt fear rise in his chest.

"I have to stop," Watari said, and he pulled his hand away. "I'm unnerving the boyo."

Tsuzuki immediately took up residence by Hisoka's side and brushed a hand through his hair. "Is he... all right? His arms..."

"Right now, the curse should be gone. I didn't cure it, but the scars are gone. I think he's safe, which means his body immediately went into an almost comatose state, just as it had before, when he'd had his soul attacked. Remember?" Tsuzuki must've nodded, because the blond continued. "But for whatever reason, it seems he isn't healing. I can only assume he's still conscious on some level, most likely for fear of falling asleep."

Tatsumi's voice, when he spoke, was quiet. "Is that possible?"

"I don't know." There was a strange snapping noise. "I can't check further without upsetting him further. Tsuzuki, could you...?"

"What do I need to do?"

Tsuzuki didn't hesitate. Hisoka felt bad; he was the one making Tsuzuki continue working even after the battle, even after he'd been injured. Simply because he couldn't trust another's hands on him.

"I need you to touch the areas his curse used to be, and the junctures at which his body becomes intangible."

"All right." Tsuzuki did as told, gently probing his chest, his stomach. Hisoka felt slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. Like having Tsuzuki wrap a wound, or having Tsuzuki hug him in public. Uncomfortable, but not unendurable. More embarrassing than anything else.

Those hands trailed down to his legs, and they lifted up Hisoka's pants until Tsuzuki could see his legs. There was a sharp hiss. "He's lost his other foot and ankle," Tsuzuki said, and Hisoka jerked involuntarily as the Shinigami's emotions spilled into him: pain and horror and worry. Tsuzuki let go of him for a moment and took several deep breaths. "Sorry about that, 'Soka." And he touched Hisoka's ankle, then his calf on his other leg. "What am I looking for here, Watari?"

"Any bumps, tears, or blood. It's pretty incredible, Tsuzuki. Despite your uselessness, the boyo really seems to trust you."

_He's not useless. Just stupid._

Tsuzuki's hands moved to his shoulders, and this time the movements slowed to a crawl, then stopped completely. "Hisoka..." He took another deep breath, then slowly let it out. Hisoka felt it touch his face. "Nothing. There's nothing, Watari."

"That's good, at least. No bad effects, just the fading."

Tsuzuki's hands flinched against Hisoka's skin.

"He should be recovering, but he's not. I don't think there's any other explanation."

"Just that he's afraid," Tsuzuki whispered. His hands ghosted over Hisoka's hair again.

"That's right. He must be subconsciously concerned about falling into those cursed nightmares again. Poor boyo."

"You're sure that's it?" Tsuzuki asked again.

"Mm. Can't see anything else for it, and it makes sense. To recuperate, he needs to fall out of consciousness. It'll put his body's focuses fully on the task of recovery, and the only bodily functions to be monitored would be his heart and lungs, and then to make sure he woke in time for necessary fluids or foods. As soon as he collapsed, he should have started to recover. He hasn't."

Tsuzuki hummed. His emotions turned to determination, resolution. His heat neared, and the bed dipped drastically. In reaction to it, Hisoka's body turned slightly. Tsuzuki caught him and held him steady as he lied down beside him.

"Tsuzuki?" Watari asked. He sounded very intrigued.

"When we slept like this," Tsuzuki said, "he could sleep without the nightmares."

"Oh. _Oh_." Watari seemed to have thought something inappropriate; his emotions were falling deep into the side of lewd.

"All right, then. We will leave Kurosaki to you, Tsuzuki. Watari and I will write up the reports for you, but _only_ this once. We must inform Chief Konoe about Muraki's potential death and send a team to investigate."

Hisoka heard their footsteps as they left, saw the brightness behind his lids disappear. Darkness fell around him, just as Tsuzuki's scent, stronger on the man than on his sheets, encased him. He sighed. A door closed.

"I'm here, Hisoka," Tsuzuki whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you. Rest. Regain your strength. Come back to me. Hisoka... I love you. I love you, 'Soka..."

A short rustle indicated the sweep of the covers before Hisoka felt them, and the warmth from Tsuzuki's body increased under the blanket. The last thing Hisoka felt was a kiss to his temple and Tsuzuki's arms wrapping around him.

* * *

"What have you found out?"

Hisoka snuggled instinctively closer to the rumbling warmth by his side. Something squeezed him tight, and he relaxed into the embrace.

"So far, all we know for sure is that he's definitely dead. As for his powers, abilities, even his knowledge..."

"Without the body, we can't be sure."

"Yes, and that Oriya fellow isn't giving it to us."

"For now, it's enough to know Hisoka's safe from him."

Hisoka stirred a bit at his name.

"How is he?"

It was Tatsumi. That was enough to bring Hisoka to full consciousness. He didn't want to be vulnerable in Tatsumi's presence. Especially in Tsuzuki's bedroom.

He blushed furiously.

"He hasn't woken up yet. I guess that's a good thing. He's... he's coming back. His feet are whole again, and his arms have returned. His fingers are still a little translucent, but I can touch them now."

Hisoka belatedly realized that, hidden under the covers, their fingers were most certainly entangled. He blushed again.

"And what about you? You haven't left that bed for longer than a few minutes at a time. It's been almost a week, Tsuzuki. You need to get out of there."

"I won't." Tsuzuki's voice was firm, but then it broke into a sad chuckle. "More to say, I can't." The arm around him tightened, and Hisoka Felt fear again before a strange tranquility settled over him. He found his muscles relaxing to it without conscious thought. "That's it," Tsuzuki cooed, and Hisoka was almost gone again. Then, "I almost lost him, Tatsumi. I... it was so close. Because I didn't trust you guys enough... I was afraid to wait, and Hisoka refused to let me go alone. I shouldn't have..." His grip tightened again. "I shouldn't have taken the chance, but I did. Hisoka didn't blame me for it."

"Tsuzuki..."

"I can't leave him, Tatsumi. I'm afraid..." And again the fear spiked for a short second, just enough for Hisoka to curl into Tsuzuki's body mindlessly, trying to comfort. Tsuzuki, he realized, was half-sitting up in the bed, propped by pillows. Hisoka, on the other hand, was using Tsuzuki's chest as his pillow. He blushed, but he still took a deep breath. Tsuzuki was wearing a shirt of some kind, and it moved as Hisoka did. "I'm afraid of leaving him alone – like he'll vanish if I'm gone for too long."

"Tsuzuki, Kurosaki has recovered for the most part-"

"I know." He laughed again. "Oh, I know, trust me. But still, I can't..."

Hisoka hummed. Tsuzuki tensed underneath him. "Stupid," he sighed. "Don't... even think about neglecting yourself... idiot..." He yawned and grumbled slightly.

"Hisoka..." The feeling of tranquility was usurped by pure joy. "Hisoka! You're awake!"

He grumbled again. "Will be if you keep shouting."

"Oh." But Tsuzuki's elation wasn't dimmed in the slightest. "Are you all right?"

"Humm. Sure."

"Do you...?" And Tsuzuki made to move away from him.

Hisoka clutched him tight. "No. Not yet. Leave later."

And Tsuzuki crawled underneath the covers, Tatsumi apparently forgotten. "All right."

Tatsumi humphed in humor. "I'll just be going."

"Thanks for coming by, Tatsumi."

Hisoka waited until the man was gone, then curled tighter into Tsuzuki's body. "You okay?"

"I healed a long time ago, Hisoka." Tsuzuki kissed the top of his head again.

Hisoka sighed. "_Idiot_." Finally he _did_ open his eyes, just so he could look into those purple eyes. "Inside."

Tsuzuki blinked, then stared, far past what was necessary. "I'm so glad."

"Huh?"

"To see your eyes again. I'm so glad." And Tsuzuki crushed him into a hug.

Hisoka's hands were stuck in-between their bodies, but he didn't feel particularly concerned about it at the moment. It felt _very_ good... to be alive. "What were the two of you talking about? Who died?"

Tsuzuki pulled Hisoka back and kissed his forehead, right between his eyes. "Muraki. Muraki's dead, Hisoka."

Hisoka blinked. "What? How?" He pushed Tsuzuki away and looked down at Tsuzuki's chest. The shirt he wore was his usual collared white, but it was unbuttoned and wrinkled, obviously not worn outside the room.

Then he panicked and stood.

"Hisoka – what-" Tsuzuki sat up and reached out for him, but Hisoka jumped out of reach, looking over himself.

He was wearing A pair of Tsuzuki's pajama pants, and if he paused long enough to realize that means he'd been stripped, most likely to be washed, he would have blushed once more. But his mind was on his bare chest and arms. His translucent fingers traced over his collarbone and chest, where lines should have snaked across his skin. His arms, too, were unblemished. "What – what is this? Tsuzuki – the scars..."

"They're gone." Tsuzuki pushed the covers back and scooted over to Hisoka's side before standing up. "While Watari put the marks on your torso to get rid of the curse, your curse marks were vanishing. We think that's why you were screaming, why you were in such pain. You... do you remember?"

Hisoka kept staring at his arm, disbelieving that situation. "I... I think I remember the pain. I remember trying to stay still, and a fire spreading up my... and then it grabbed my heart and I couldn't breathe." Hisoka grabbed his chest in remembrance. "And I remember your voice."

"My voice?"

Tsuzuki came up beside him as he nodded. "Yeah. You were saying to hold on, and then you were telling me it was all right. I remember..." Hisoka did blush then; he very distinctly remembered warmth and safety.

Tsuzuki reached out and touched Hisoka's arm, pulling it toward him. "It's gone." Tsuzuki traced a hand up Hisoka's arm, up to his shoulder, around his neck and down to his collarbone. "See? No red. It's gone." He released Hisoka's arm and turned to the bed to fix the covers Hisoka had thrown back in his haste. Hisoka took the chance to shiver. Tsuzuki's touch lingered on his skin. He had goosebumps. "Tatsumi sent a team to look for Muraki, and they went to Oriya's place. He confirmed Muraki's death, but refused to release the body."

"He's... really dead?"

"Yes. According to Oriya, he suffered a fatal stab wound." Tsuzuki straightened the covers and turned to him. "You did it, Hisoka. You got your revenge."

Hisoka could only stare. He couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real. Muraki was... dead?

_That_ Muraki?

"You're free, Hisoka. You can leave now."

Hisoka froze.

Leave? Tsuzuki wanted him out of the man's house? It only made sense. He thought he'd heard Tatsumi say he'd been there for a week, or almost a week, or something around a week. In any case, it had been a while. And-

And then he realized what Tsuzuki was saying.

"Tatsumi said it when he first came in," Tsuzuki continued. "Since you stayed in the afterlife to find out about your death and get revenge for it, you're good. You can head on through the afterlife and can be reincarnated."

"What?"

Tsuzuki didn't look at him, but instead walked out of the room. Hisoka heard cupboards banging open and closed and realized Tsuzuki had retreated to the kitchen. He followed.

"You'll be reincarnated like any other soul, and you'll live freely on – Hisoka?"

Hisoka grabbed the collar on either side of Tsuzuki's shirt and pulled Tsuzuki down to his level. "I'm not going to be reincarnated."

"Eh?" Tsuzuki put down whatever the hell he'd grabbed from the cupboard and encircled Hisoka's wrists. He didn't do anything, simply held them. "Hisoka, you have no more reason to-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll shoot you." Hisoka still pulled with one hand while another traced its way to the nape of Tsuzuki's neck, his still-weak fingers wrapping themselves in Tsuzuki's hair. "I still have a reason to be here, idiot." And he leaned up onto his toes and kissed the moron.

Tsuzuki's arms slid from his wrists to his shoulders to his back and down to his hips, and Tsuzuki pulled him close, until their pelvises touched, and Hisoka groaned. Tsuzuki twisted his head. When Hisoka gasped at the new contact, Tsuzuki delved in for a deeper kiss, and suddenly Hisoka was no longer in control. Tsuzuki's tongue traveled across the expanse of Hisoka's mouth, along his lips, until finally it dueled with Hisoka's tongue. Hisoka, inept and inexperienced, quickly lost.

That was when Tsuzuki's actions slowed, when his hands played along Hisoka's waist until they rested on the front of his pants, his thumbs hooked underneath the elastic. Hisoka gasped at the heat pooling under his belly.

"I think," Tsuzuki said, releasing Hisoka's mouth and resting his head on the crook of the boy's neck and shoulder, making his body arch at the height difference, "We should stop."

"Hmm. Why?" Hisoka didn't stop at all, tugging at Tsuzuki's shirt and touching the man's chest in wonder.

"Ah – because you were – I mean, your experience-"

"Shut up." Hisoka took Tsuzuki's mouth again, and the older Shinigami groaned as Hisoka tried again to battle with his tongue. Tsuzuki stumbled back until his hip banged against the countertop.

Hisoka's fingers finally grabbed the shirt well enough to tug it off, and Hisoka, for once, just tossed it down and to the side. "Hisoka," Tsuzuki panted when Hisoka released his lips, but the boy only kissed his jaw and trailed down to the man's neck, doing so simply by placing his feet back down on the ground.

"What?" He had no idea what to do, but he followed instincts and nipped at Tsuzuki's throat. The dark shot of pleasure he Felt was enough to tell him he was on target.

"Hisoka, wait – wait." Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka's shoulders and pushed him back. Hisoka almost snapped at him, but Tsuzuki's eyes were interestingly dark, almost black. The new color was beautiful. It distracted him. "You just woke up. You have... a past. And we..."

"Do you not want this?" Hisoka asked, already knowing the answer. He could Feel the strain Tsuzuki was putting on himself.

"Hisoka, we have," and here Tsuzuki chuckled, just realizing what he was saying as he said it, "we have plenty of time. We don't have to rush this."

"Enma, you're stupid." Hisoka gusted out a breath and rolled his eyes. "I'm not rushing anything." Though he blushed beet red, thinking about what he was about to say. "I just wanted it."

Tsuzuki laughed then, only making Hisoka's humiliation worse. "I want it, too, 'Soka."

Hisoka looked away, completely uncomfortable now.

Tsuzuki smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. Hisoka smacked the hand away. "Want some food?"

"Not if it's cooked by you."

"Aw, 'Soka! That's mean!"

"Here." Hisoka pushed him aside and looked at what he'd set out. "Whit rice?"

"I thought I'd make gumbo."

Hisoka snorted. "I don't think so. Leave that to me."

Tsuzuki stepped aside. "Are you all right? What can I do to help?"

"I'm fine, and you can stay out of my way."

"Aw, but 'Soka..."

Hisoka sighed and stopped before he opened the fridge. He was such a sucker. "Fine. You can cut the vegetables while I make the roux (1)."

"Okay!"

Hisoka had opened the fridge and grabbed the carrots before he realized the strange warmth curling in his chest. He touched his skin above his heart and paused. He felt good. Very good. Content. He looked over to Tsuzuki, who was humming as he grabbed his stupid, frilly apron. And he smiled.

* * *

"Hisoka!"

"Behind you, stupid!" Hisoka rolled and struggled to his feet. The pavement beneath him shook at the force of the wolf's landing. Tsuzuki dodged an attack of his own.

Two others fought Byakko, while another had already been downed by Tsuzuki's o-fuda magic and now lie, once again human, on the ground by Tsuzuki's left. Hisoka covered himself and Tsuzuki with a barrier and waited for his own wolf to turn to him.

"Hold on, 'Soka!" Tsuzuki abandoned Byakko for Hisoka's wolf, shouting at it as it turned to Hisoka. Its eyes were difficult to see in the dark, but the light of the full moon allowed those eyes to glitter, allowed the drool dripping from its mouth to sparkle as it fell to the ground. The curse mark on its hind leg shone green for a short second.

Then it lunged.

Hisoka stood his ground, his hands still locked together to hold the barrier still. Tsuzuki shouted and through a panel of sutras at the beast as its teeth sank into Hisoka's neck.

The teeth didn't stand a chance against the barrier. Hisoka could only guess that Tsuzuki's fear stemmed from the power of the creature's venom.

The wolf howled and pulled away from Hisoka. Tsuzuki took his usual place in front of his partner. "Hisoka! Are you all right?"

"Fine," Hisoka panted. He watched the wolf curve into itself, heard bones cracking and crackling. The woman, returned to her form, fell in a heap to the ground. "Go get the other two."

"Right." Tsuzuki left him then, returning to Byakko's side. With his o-fuda magic, he took out the last two, letting Byakko wear them out and hold them down.

"Well." Hisoka let the barriers fall only after both turned human and collapsed. "That was tedious."

"Haven't had a fight like that since Muraki."

Both paused at that, still not quite used to the idea of it, or of the man's death. Hisoka looked away. "It's only been a month."

"Mm." Tsuzuki looked at their unconscious victims. "I guess we'll have to take them to Meifu for their memories to be altered."

Hisoka shrugged. "I suppose." He looked around, as well, but his eyes were searching for anything they might have missed. "What a pain."

"Um, 'Soka?"

"Yeah." He turned back to Tsuzuki, just in time for the man's lips to crush down on his. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you." Tsuzuki beamed a bright smile at him, even as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat.

"Jeez, you freaking perv." Hisoka wiped his mouth. "We're still working, idiot." He looked away, then glared out of the side of his eyes. "If you want to kiss me, wait until we're out of this situation. Moron."

"'Kay!" Tsuzuki chirped.

He was such a sucker.

He walked up to Tsuzuki and snatched his trenchcoat as the man turned to walk away. When Tsuzuki sent him a confused look, Hisoka leaned up on his tip-toes and pecked the man quickly on the side of his lips. "You, too," he mumbled.

Tsuzuki laughed and hugged him, snuggling, then let go and walked off just as Hisoka was about to yell at him.

Hisoka watched that trenchcoat swing in the breeze, watched that straight back head off. And he smiled.

"Tsuzuki," he said, and watched the man turn to him, surprised this time. Hisoka simply looked into those glittering eyes.

Tsuzuki, understanding, held out his hand and smiled. With a half-hearted grumble, Hisoka stalked forward and reached out, grabbing the hand. Without a word, they headed to the first body, their hands still entwined.

* * *

(1) 'Roux' means gravy, sort of, and is usually what people first work on when making gumbo, according the the Internet. (It's best if I don't cook, you see.)

Oh, my. It's over. Just like that. O_O Well, I hope everyone's enjoyed this trilogy, and thank you to everyone who's devotedly followed the storyline. Especially those who have reviewed! You all are the reason this story finished, and why it's done so quickly. I love you all. And now, it's time for both this story and me to bow out.


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